The List
by Ms-Figg
Summary: An angry Hermione makes a list of Snape's attributes. Snape discovers it, and assigns her detention so she can explain it to him. Particularly the last entry. Draco has his own dark designs for Hermione. MF, Lemons, Oral,
1. Part 1

**The List Part One**

**S**limy  
**E**vil  
**V**icious  
**E**ldritch  
**R**ude  
**U**gly  
**S**arcastic

**S**ickening  
**N**asty  
**A**sshole  
**P**utrid  
**E**rotic

Her brow furrowed in concentration, eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger looked over the list of words she associated with her snarky Potions Professor, Severus Snape with satisfaction. Yes, the list described him all right.

Hermione was in Potions class, smarting from another unfair loss of points by Snape. He was such a bastard. Just because she helped a fellow student pick up some spilled lacewings, he had taken thirty points from Gryffindor. Then, when she protested, he took twenty more, leveling his black eyes at her and daring her to say another word.

The Potions Master represented every single word on her list to some extent. She had ugly down, but he wasn't ugly. He just had a big nose and very fine hair that looked greasy. But it sounded mean and hateful to call him ugly, so she did. Putrid was another stretch, since he actually smelled quite nice most of the time, but right now he stunk of unfairness. Slimy, well he was more like slithery, the way he crept around trying to catch people breaking rules…she'd change that one.

Hermione looked at the last word with a little trepidation. She had run out of nasty E words and wanted to keep the list honest. Despite all his horrible traits, Severus Snape dripped sexuality. At least to Hermione. He seemed like he would take a woman and just swallow her whole. How Hermione came to this conclusion? By watching him. The way he was. The Professor dominated his Potions class, was selfish with his possessions and property, and any project applied himself to was handled with focus, the wizard zeroing in on his task unceasingly until he reached completion.

Hermione imagined with a woman he would be the same way. He'd dominate her, be possessive of her, and when he took her, he'd apply himself unceasingly until he brought her to completion. Hermione tried to control these thoughts about the dark wizard, but it was hard. Even pissed off at him she retained this view of him, wondering if her assessment was right, and what it would be like to be the woman of Severus Snape. To hear him speak in that silky, sexy voice as he ran those long pale fingers over her skin, or look into those black eyes as they hovered over hers. She shuddered.

Suddenly her list was snatched out her hand.

Oh, gods, Professor Snape had it, and was reading it. Shit. Shit. Shit. His eyes scanned down the page, then his eyebrows rose. His black eyes shifted to Hermione thoughtfully. He turned and walked back to his desk, list in hand.

"Detention, Miss Granger. Tonight here in the Potions classroom. Eight o'clock," he said silkily. "Be prepared to discuss your 'list'."

* * *

Severus Snape looked over the neatly printed list Hermione had made of his so-called attributes using the letters of his name. He had laughed at a couple of the words, scowled at others, but the one that intrigued him was the last. Erotic. So, the Gryffindor witch thought he was erotic. Interesting. That explained quite a few things he had been noticing about the witch. Nothing too glaring mind you, just a bit on the odd side. Normally Miss Granger was on point in his class, attentive and ready to participate in discussions. Whenever he fired a question at her, she would fire the answer back quickly, taking only seconds to process the correct response. Lately however, he would send a question at her and she would look at him dazedly, and he would have to repeat the question in order to get an answer. 

He had also noticed an unusual amount of clumsiness whenever he would stop and observe her working on a brew in class. Her normally sure hands would hesitate and falter, and on more than one occasion he'd had to rescue her work, keeping her from exploding her cauldron. He scolded her scathingly when she made such stupid errors. She was his best pupil. Such sloppiness was completely unacceptable. He would ask her what in the world was wrong with her, and she would look at him with a Longbottomish expression on her face and shrug lamely. This infuriated him. He was harsh on her as far as marks went, not wanting her to get a big head about her abilities, but he found himself actually having to give her lesser marks due to her poor showing. Looking at the list, he saw the young witch was obviously conflicted…about him.

The indomitable Miss Hermione Granger, toppled off her game by something as simple as a case of puppy-love. An infatuation. A crush on her Potions Professor and the Slytherin Head of House, no less. Godric Gryffindor would be doing handstands in his grave. Snape sighed. He was already swamped with dealing with a continuous flow of overwrought Slytherin females and their love problems, passing out tissues and listening to their horror stories of unrequited love. Now he had to deal with Miss Granger's imagined attraction to him. He had to locate her "off switch" and click of the flow of hormones flooding the witch before it got out of hand. This had happened to him once before.

He had put off dealing with the smitten young woman, thinking the infatuation would wear off on its own, and found himself in quite a compromising position several weeks later when the desperate witch marched into his classroom one afternoon, warded the doors, disrobed and begged him to shag her. Snape had been hard put not to do it. The witch was lovely, and implored him so sweetly and passionately…but he steeled himself and flooed Albus, informing him of his situation. The Headmaster dealt with the witch for him, but afterwards reprimanded Snape for not taking action to discourage the young woman sooner. He did not want relive the situation with Miss Granger.

He looked at the time. It was seven forty-five. The initial words on the list would not be difficult to get through. He would make her uncomfortable about them and deduct points for each one, according to how offensive he actually found them. Some of them were apt descriptions, such as sarcastic, rude, vicious, and nasty. He really fit these descriptions, particularly when dressing down someone who raised his ire. The term 'eldritch' had cracked him up. Miss Granger dug deep for that one. He was up in the air about "evil". He did have a very dark nature, but believed he just stopped short of actually being evil, though his students would definitely disagree with his summation. As far as being ugly, that could be applied either to his personality, his features or both. Actually, some women considered him handsome in an intense, dark, mysterious kind of way.

The remaining words were definitely ones that would be applied to him by an irate student pissed off by point loss. Miss Granger had described him as slimy, sickening, putrid and an asshole after he had reduced her house total by fifty points. He could understand her wrath, but still she was stupid enough to wave her little list around and let him get it, so she had to pay the price. The term 'asshole' would cost her.

But the word "erotic." What in the world would a little virgin like Miss Granger know about anything erotic? He would have to discover what her definition of 'erotic' was in order to get to the root of her infatuation with him. This exploration would definitely make her squirm, and he had no intention on letting her off the hook about it. Making her open up about her attraction, then by discussion letting her see how ridiculous it was, would hopefully have the desired effect of getting her back to her former level of work. If she wasn't candid enough, he could always apply Legilimency to see what she found erotic about him and use that as a basis to discourage her. As it was, she was seriously distracted, and in a class as exacting as Advanced Potions, distraction could be lethal. He wondered if this crush on him was affecting any of her other classes. Hopefully it wasn't. Hopefully it was only in his presence that Miss Granger lost her concentration and her cool.

There was a knock on the door. Snape straightened his robes and folded his hands on his desk.

"Come in, Miss Granger," he called.

Hermione opened the door and walked in, her shoulders slightly slumped. She was dressed in her school robes, her uniform under them. She had worried over her detention all day, the last word on the list taunting her. Now the Professor knew that she had impure thoughts about him, and it was embarrassing to say the least. It probably amused him to think of her pining over him like a lovesick billywig. Little Hermione Granger longing for the touch of her Potions Professor. She wished she could find a rock and crawl under it.

She walked up to the Professor's desk and stood in front of it, her eyes on the floor.

"I'm here for detention, Professor," she announced unnecessarily.

Snape's black eyes passed over Hermione slowly as she stood before him with her head bowed. He could tell she had punished herself about the list, probably agonizing over the last word, and embarrassed to death about his discovery of her infatuation with him. He smirked. The darker side of him flared up for a moment, tempting him to take her humiliation to an even greater level. He pushed it aside.

"Sit down in your usual seat, Miss Granger," he said.

Hermione turned, walked around the long table in the first that served as a communal desk for Snape's pupil, and sidled in to the seat located in the middle, directly in front of his desk. She pulled the chair out, sat down and slid herself closer to the desk, folding her hands and looking at him directly now. His dark eyes met hers knowingly, and she felt a tug of apprehension in her belly as he pulled the list out of his pocket. She attempted to soften his reaction.

"Professor, I wrote that list when I was very angry at you. I didn't mean those things I wrote," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.

The Professor scanned the list, and looked at her. She saw no compassion in his dark eyes.

"Miss Granger, I've found that people are most honest when under emotional turmoil. When you wrote this list, you certainly did mean it. Every word. Don't try to convince me otherwise. You will be wasting your time," he said, frowning at her. "Now, why do you think I'm slimy, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione swallowed, "I was going to change that to slithery, sir," she confessed, "because of the way you slink around trying to catch rule-breakers."

Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Miss Granger, you are not a complete idiot. You know rules must be enforced or the whole system will fall into chaos. My 'slinking' around helps maintain order at Hogwarts and protects the students from themselves. Ten points from Gryffindor for that description."

Hermione just looked at him. So that was his game…she had to justify what she wrote about him or lose house points. Very well. Snape looked down at the list.

"The next word is 'evil'. How am I evil, Miss Granger?" he asked her.

Hermione warmed up to the challenge.

"It depends on the definition used, Professor, " she said. "In this case I define evil as causing ruin, injury, or pain. Something that is a cause or source of suffering. The way you unfairly punish and embarrass your students is as far as I'm concerned, something you do to be cruel."

"Wrong in one, Miss Granger. If the student were acting in a manner that was acceptable, I would not be able to take points, assign detentions or dress them down. And even when I do, that can hardly be called ruin, injury or pain. In the student's mind, perhaps it is hurtful, because they aren't free to pursue their own plans for that evening, or feel badly about losing points for their house, but in that case they mentally cause their own suffering, when the solution is to merely accept their losses and continue on. As far as fairness goes, this is my classroom and I set the rules. I must be able to enforce them. This is not a democracy, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor for that inapplicable description.

Hermione kept her face immobile. That was two down. The Professor did have a point.

The Professor perused the list again.

"I am going to put the following descriptions in one bag, Miss Granger and save you the trouble of trying to justify them. 'Vicious, Rude, Sarcastic and Nasty.' These are all perceptions of my personality and my preferred mode of operation when dealing with others who invoke my ire or my wrath. I can be particularly vicious and nasty with my delivery if I feel a person needing correction is too thick for reason alone. Most are, and so require the extra impetus. I am also rude to those who assail me with their stupidity or unwanted approaches. I am sarcastic by nature, so you will lose no points for that. But my viciousness, rudeness and nastiness are determined by the way others cause me to interact with them. It is not my nature. So thirty points from Gryffindor.

Hermione frowned at not having the chance to address the descriptions, though once again the Professor had justified himself very well. Everyone had different perceptions of another's motivations for acting the way they do, and there was no way to be sure the perceptions were correct, so the words Hermione used were unable to clearly define the wizard's actions.

The Professor continued going through the list, debunking each description Hermione had used and deducting house points. As far as the term 'asshole' was concerned, that little description was deemed a direct insult and resulted in a fifty-point loss. Hermione winced. Her housemates were going to kill her. Now they were behind Slytherin house as far as the House Cup went. The Gryffindors would have to suck up to a lot of Professors to make up those points, and hopefully win the next couple of Quidditch matches. In total she had lost them one hundred and forty points. And there was one word left.

The Professor rose from behind his desk and walked around it. He stopped in front of Hermione, whose heart was beginning to pound. This was the word that revealed her secret attraction to the Potions Master. A secret he now knew. Snape leaned back against the desk and studied her, watching as she began to blush under his gaze.

The Professor was enjoying the normally unflappable Gryffindor's discomfort and embarrassment because of her crush on him. To see the confident Miss Granger brought to her knees by her emerging sexuality and natural curiosity was, well, satisfying. She was someone who put a lot of belief in the power of intellect and logic, and spent hours upon hours honing hers to the point of excluding the other aspects of life. It really must weigh heavily on her that she found her snarky Professor was arousing feeling in her that had nothing to do with her mind.

He let his eyes flick over Hermione a bit more until the blush that began at her face crept over the rest of her body. Then he addressed her.

"Miss Granger, the word at the end of your list had a much different connotation than the previous. A much more personal one. Much more…intimate in nature. It leads me to believe, Miss Granger that I have aroused your interest in a way not connected with our teacher/student relationship. Am I correct in my assumption?" he asked quietly.

Hermione simply looked at him. She was unable to admit the truth of his statement. She sat at the desk and lowered her eyes.

The Professor looked at her, amused.

"So the mouth that roared goes silent," he mocked, "It seems, Miss Granger, I have finally found the question that you can't answer."

Hermione's eyes flashed at him angrily for a moment, before returning to the desktop. The Professor stood up and walked a bit closer to Hermione's desk, put both his hands on it, and leaned closer to her.

"You described me on your list as 'erotic' Miss Granger. Tell me your definition of erotic, and why you find me so," he said silkily, using the power of his voice on the young witch to make her respond.

Hermione looked up at him. He wanted to know why she was attracted to him. Her attraction was purely physical. She couldn't tell him she dreamed about him doing things to her body that lovers do.

The Potions Master scowled at her.

"Miss Granger, if you do not tell me, I will be forced to use Legilimency on you and see for myself. That is far more invasive than answering my question. At least you can choose what to tell me if you answer me. You will have no choice concerning what I see in your mind," he said evenly.

Hermione looked at him with a shocked expression. If he looked in her mind, he would see everything he thought and dreamed about concerning him. He would know she thought about him having sex with her, worse he would see the fantasies.

"Please don't use Legilimency on me, Professor," Hermione said in a panicked voice, "Please, sir, don't do it!"

The Professor was taken aback by the fear in her voice. She sounded terrified. He became instantly curious. What was she hiding in that mind of hers that made her beg him not to look?

"Well then, Miss Granger, what is your definition of 'erotic' and what do you find erotic about me?" he asked her again. "This is the last time I will ask you. I will find out for myself if you do not answer me truthfully."

Hermione drew in a steadying breath. She was going to have to tell him. Showing him would be so much worse.

"My definition of 'erotic' is…is…sexually arousing," Hermione whispered.

"What? Speak up, Miss Granger. I couldn't hear you," Snape said, his dark eyes focused on her intently.

Gods, she had to say it again?

"I said my definition of 'erotic' is sexually arousing," she said louder.

The Potions Master was silent for several moments. To Hermione, his silence was worse than anything he could have said. He was going to laugh at her. She knew it.

But he didn't laugh. He stood up and stepped back against the desk, folding his arms.

"Miss Granger," he said softly, "I am not going to humiliate you by asking you what you mean by that statement. Your meaning is very clear in that you think I evoke sexual desire in you. I know what that means."

Hermione wished she could turn invisible as she listened to the Potions Master imply that he knew she wanted him to shag her. Or she thought she did. He had purposely inserted that seed of doubt, planning on watering it later on with reason and making it grow. He continued.

"But I will ask you how I arouse you. What is it about me that causes this imagined reaction in you?" he asked her.

Hermione felt a little flash of anger at his implication that her reaction to him was imagined. She felt the urge. She knew it was very real, as inappropriate as it was. Hell, sometimes it kept her awake at night. Damn, she hadn't asked for this.

"I don't know, Professor," she said weakly.

His black eyes searched her face.

"You know," he replied, thinking it might be time to take a look in her mind. Hermione saw his eyes shift to her forehead.

"Your voice," she said quickly.

"What about my voice?" he responded.

The Potions Master was well aware of how women loved the silky richness of his voice. But he was still interested in hearing what Hermione found so erotic about it.

"It sounds like…like what a man would sound like when he's…he's" she started.

"When he's what, Miss Granger?" the Potions Master pressed.

"Talking to a woman while having sex," she concluded, coloring.

"And how would you know what that sounds like, Miss Granger? I think I am safe in assuming you have not yet heard a man's voice in that way," he said.

"No I haven't," she replied, "It's just how I imagine a man would sound. Soft, silky, persuasive. A voice that could make you do anything for him."

"All right. My voice. Is there anything else?" Snape asked her, his eyes watching her for any type of hesitance that would give him the right to invade her mind.

"Your eyes," she said, looking into those dark, knowing pools and feeling a small burst of heat. The Professor noticed her slight pulse of desire because of the momentary heat reflected in her eyes. She was definitely infatuated.

"Your eyes look as if they could see right inside a wom…a person and see every secret. Lay them bare. Worse, they make you want to give up your secrets…give up everyth.." here Hermione stopped, feeling her heart rising in her throat

"My eyes," the Professor said. His throat felt a little constricted. "Is there more?"

He could see the witch was having a hard time with this, but he wanted to know everything about him that she thought moved her to be attracted to him.

"Your focus," Hermione said, her voice cracking a little as she swallowed mid-speech. "Whenever you are focused on something, it is like nothing else exists but that one thing you are occupied with. And it makes me wonder what you are like when focused on a woman, and I imagine it…and…and…the idea of it…of you…does things to me."

Snape went silent for a few more moments.

"Is there more? Tell me everything," he said to the witch.

"Your command. The way you dominate situations. How controlling you are. How you demand to be obeyed. All those things make me feel weak inside…like I want to be dominated…controlled…makes me want to do whatever you tell me to do," Hermione said in a low voice, looking him directly in his eyes now. She looked dazed, as if hypnotized or caught up in a dream.

Before Snape knew he was doing, he had breathed the spell.

"Legilimens," he whispered, and his consciousness was drawn into Hermione's mind. There was first an image of him kissing Hermione violently against the wall of the potions classroom, crushing her body tight to the stones, then flashes of his pale hands sliding across her bare skin, his lips at her throat, her body arching upward, perspiration dripping off a surging pale back, black eyes blazing down, pale fingers tracing a thigh, then the full profile image of the Professor raised up on his arms, staring down at Hermione while stroking her brutally in a bed, her body jerking wildly, her head tilted back, her mouth open, gasping…

Snape pulled back out of Hermione's mind, his black eyes wide at the sheer carnality of her dreams and fantasies. He felt disoriented, his stomach tightened and he fought to retain his composure. He looked at the witch as if seeing her for the first time in his life.

Hermione hadn't felt him invade her mind. She still had the dazed look on her face, and the Professor realized she had probably slipped into one of her fantasies about him and was daydreaming.

"Miss Granger," he said, willing his voice to stay even. The erotic images in the young witch's mind had shaken him. "Miss Granger," he said again, and Hermione's eyes focused on him, and she blushed deep crimson.

After what he witnessed in Hermione's mind, the Potions Master wasted no time in trying to dissuade her from her infatuation, and make her realize her attraction for him was not a true one.

"Miss Granger. You must realize that what you are feeling are not true feelings for me. They are a result of your burgeoning sexuality, and common in all young women. You are not focused on me but a caricature of me, a false projection."

The Professor drew closer to the witch, leaning down over the desk and looking into her eyes almost desperately as he tried to defuse her.

"My voice is nothing special, I just speak in low, quiet tones for the most part. My eyes see no more than any other person's and certainly do not divine secrets of any type. My focus is something I've developed over time because of the painstaking nature of potions making. It is a by-product of my dedication to my art and nothing more. My command is just my use of the authority granted me as a teacher in this school. My control and domination of my classes is employed simply to keep tight reins on my pupils, so I can at least attempt to teach them. You are reading things into me that aren't true, Miss Granger and creating an image of me that does not exist."

The Professor searched the witch's face to see if she were absorbing any part of what he was saying. He continued.

"I am not the man you are pining over, Miss Granger. Think about this. If I were that fantasy man I would be surrounded by women, don't you think? Just the absence of them should tell you that what you are imagining is just that, imagination. A hormonal construct. You have focused on me because I am beyond your reach, inaccessible. As reprehensible as you find me at times, you know my conscience and sense of duty would never allow me to break a student/teacher trust. In other words, subconsciously you know I am safe to fantasize about because it could never happen. This is not true desire, Miss Granger, it is simple projection announcing your arrival into adulthood. You need to remember that when you begin to sink into your belief that it is something more. That I am something more."

He leaned back, away from the desk, his eyes locked to hers, trying to push her images out of his mind.

"You are dismissed, Miss Granger. Return to your house," he said, "Now"

Hermione looked relieved as she quickly rose from the desk, sidled between the rows and exited the Potions classroom without a look back.

The Potions Master stood leaning against his desk, and wiped a pale hand across his face. Merlin's balls. He never suspected the mind of Hermione Granger to create anything as erotic and arousing about him as what he witnessed. He thought he would see strolls by the lake, or hand holding…something chaste and innocent, despite her use of the word erotic. How could a virgin imagine such carnal, lustful acts?

The Professor stood by his desk for a moment, shaking his head, before warding the classroom and making a beeline for his study. And his liquor cabinet.

He needed a drink.

Snape poured himself a stiff firewhiskey and stared into the glass a moment before downing it in one gulp. He gasped as the liquor burned his throat going down, his black eyes watering a bit. He set the glass down, turned and walked to the armchair in front of the fireplace and folded himself into it. The image of himself roughly taking Miss Granger came back to him in glaring clarity. He tried to push it from his mind but it stubbornly remained. He felt himself hardening despite himself. The detention had not gone as smoothly as he had thought it would. He had always been a man of great discipline and restraint. He had experience listening to young women describe their infatuations because of his position as head of house, which over made him a kind of father confessor and sounding board for his female Slytherins. He had felt certain he could hear Miss Granger out and remain neutral, even if the object of her infatuation was himself, and then advise her.

Well, he had succeeded in advising her, pointing out that she was projecting on him rather than actually desiring him. He felt he had been quite convincing, and hoped that the Gryffindor witch absorbed what he told her and would apply her ability to think logically to defuse the situation. But it shook him to discover he couldn't listen to her with his usual detachment. While outwardly he exhibited the control and detachment he always evidenced with students, inwardly her confessions had moved him in a most undesirable manner. His knowledge of her innocence, coupled with the very erotic way she was describing his effect on her had made him realize for just a moment that if he had been so inclined he could have taken the young witch and she would have welcomed it. And the thought did not repel him as it should have.

Unlike the Hufflepuff girl, who although lovely, was not very bright, Miss Granger was a smart, usually very levelheaded witch. She had a formidable mind and a well-developed sense of responsibility. She was also more mature than most of the student body, her dealings with the hot headed Harry Potter and reactionary Ron Weasley having honed her sense of responsibility and right action, if only to keep the twits from getting themselves killed over the years. She was not the kind of witch to involve herself in the trivial, hormone-driven pursuits that afflicted those of her age. She preferred the pursuit of education and knowledge instead, feeling that to be most important at this stage of her young life. It wasn't a popular decision she had made. He himself had heard her being described as cold, frigid, and a bookworm by male students who had attempted to court her unsuccessfully. Snape had always approved of her decision to make knowledge her beau.

If those same male students had heard the Gryffindor witch today, describing her very carnal attraction to her Professor, their perceptions of her would definitely have changed. What Snape hoped was that his own perception of the young witch had not been permanently affected. The image of him ferociously riding her body as if he owned her was something he would not easily be able to forget, despite his control and discipline. And then there were the other images, bits and pieces of foreplay, his lips and fingers on her skin, his own eyes full of lust and desire, and then the image of him kissing her in his own classroom, pressing her body up against the wall and claiming her mouth. Was that what she thought of as she watched him lecture? When he prepared ingredients for demonstration, did she see his hands doing other things? Probably.

The Professor sighed. He had made a grave error in questioning Miss Granger about that last word. His own curiosity and love of dressing down the brilliant witch had done this to him. He should have just given her a blanket punishment for her audacity in writing such a list at all and left it at that. But no, he had wanted to make her uncomfortable. He had succeeded, but in the process had made himself even more uncomfortable than the witch. Up to this point, he had always prided himself on his ability to avoid the entanglements that he had heard befell other relatively young Professors that taught nubile young witches coming into their own sexuality. He had never been remotely tempted to seduce a student, no matter how lovely or willing. He had never before understood how a wizard could take advantage of a student, even if she was the age of consent. But after witnessing Miss Granger's thoughts about him, he could see how the situation could happen if a teacher was weak. He had never been weak, and had no intentions on letting a curly-headed little know it all bring him to his knees, no matter how tempting she was.

Tempting? He didn't mean tempting. He couldn't have.

* * *

Hermione walked quickly back to Gryffindor tower, glad to be out of the Potions classroom and away from Professor Snape. It had been humiliating telling him how he made her feel inside…but it had also been exciting because it was so wrong. A part of her had wished that he would become aroused by her confessions and for once thrown all that reserve and control to the four winds and made her dreams a reality. She wouldn't have told anyone. Besides, she was the age of consent…his indulgence would have been well within his rights if she had been willing. 

She sighed. The Professor tried to tell her she was over-reacting to very mundane truths about him. That there was nothing remotely erotic about his voice, his presence or his actions. That her perceptions were being colored by her sexual awakening as a woman. But isn't that exactly what desire was? Heightened perception concerning someone you found arousing. To him, his eyes were ordinary, but to her they could see deep inside, pull out the hidden parts of her. He had no idea if his eyes could really do this, he never looked at her with the intention of seeing inside. He saw only the surface. To him, his voice was commonplace…of course it would be. But to Hermione those silky tones reverberated through her body whenever he spoke. Of course he wouldn't see this, but if he ever spoke in those low tones while inside her, he'd know his voice's power then.

Hermione knew the Professor was only saying and doing what he felt right to do in this situation. At least he hadn't mocked her. She thought he might. He had always taken every opportunity to be cruel before. But she hadn't really thought about his dedication to teaching, and to being a help to students, even the ones that annoyed him as much as she did. Maybe she didn't give the wizard as much credit as he deserved. She trembled a little at the thought of him looking into her mind. She was so glad he didn't. Her imagination was so vivid when it came to him. She was a virgin but she knew the mechanics of sex, how it was performed. She had watched porn before, and found it pretty disgusting at the time. She had been in her fourth year then and watched it with her older cousin Patricia while on vacation from Hogwarts.

They had found the video by accident, in the bottom of a drawer. It didn't have a label, so they put it in to see what it was and watched the whole movie, their eyes round as saucers. Patricia hadn't reacted like Hermione did. She was turned on by it. It looked kind of awful to Hermione. The men were so…so greedy and brutal, and the women looked to be in pain the way their faces were contorting, and how they were crying out. Patricia said that they weren't in pain, it just felt so good to them they just looked like that, and they really liked what the men were doing to them. The men were putting their penises everywhere in the women…in fact it looked like sex was more enjoyable for the men. Patricia had informed Hermione that every boy who would try and go out with her, ultimately had the same thing in mind.

This knowledge helped Hermione to make her decision to leave boys alone for the time being, though she did find herself wondering about sex more and more as she got older and witnessed other students experimenting with intimacy, kissing and touching one another. Most of the time they looked clumsy and over-excited, as if trying to do something they didn't really know how to do. Hermione decided if she ever did have sex, it would be with someone who knew what they were doing.

One night Ginny Weasley confided to Hermione she had sex with an older wizard, a grown wizard and how good he had felt banging inside her. She wouldn't say who it was though. Hermione thought she might know him. Then Ginny told Hermione about this thing that happened to her while the wizard was on top of her, like an explosion of goodness, that made her scream and feel better than she had ever felt in her life. She called it an orgasm. The young Weasley also confided that she had had orgasms before, that she had masturbated and made them happen, but it was nothing like when the wizard made her have one. An orgasm with a man was the ultimate pleasure.

Listening to Ginny had made Hermione feel a tickling ache between her legs, and when she went back to her room, she touched herself to relieve it and had a small orgasm, her first. Ginny was right, it was very nice. But Hermione needed a man if she wanted the ultimate pleasure. From that moment on, sex took on a new light to Hermione. She was more interested in it, but her perceptions were colored by Ginny's experience…so she didn't want a boy…she wanted a man. A grown wizard.

She couldn't remember exactly what happened to put Professor Snape in the forefront of her dawning sexuality. How he managed to slip into her dreams. Maybe it was because he was always so sure, so precise, so in control that he filled that niche of fantasy man. Hermione realized that she could see the demanding Professor doing her as if in a porn movie. He was so controlling of course he'd lock her down in some immovable position and take his pleasure. She found the idea of being at his mercy very exciting. She felt sure if any wizard could give her an orgasm, he could.

It was from these humble, naughty beginnings that she arrived to tonight, detention with Professor Snape and her humiliating confession of finding him sexually attractive. But again, at least he hadn't delved into her mind. The pornographic images she had of them together would have shocked him. He wouldn't have been able to understand how she knew so much when she hadn't ever been touched. Then she would have had to tell him about the porno she viewed, which was also pretty embarrassing. What kind of girl watched pornos?

Professor Snape had talked a good game, and made sense. However, making sense has little to do with sexual attraction. Hermione still desired him, and probably would continue to do so, despite his attempts at discouraging her. But he hadn't shown even the slightest indication that she might have a chance to actually entice him. He had listened to her confessions stoically and clinically, as if listening to a description of a dissection. And it was a dissection of sorts. He had made her cut open her desire and lay it open for him to see. He had seen and been unimpressed.

She sighed. She wondered if this would make a difference in class, now that the Professor knew her daydreaming most likely was revolving around being in compromising positions with him. Probably not. Knowing the Professor, he probably expected her to wipe all that nonsense out of her head, since he had a heart to heart with her. The wizard probably thought it was something she could just turn off when faced with the logic of it. What he didn't realize was Hermione was logical enough to see that what she was feeling had no basis in logic, so wouldn't even waste her energy attempting to kill her feelings with reason. She would just have to do a better job of hiding them. Graduation was right around the corner. Once she left Hogwarts, she was sure her attraction to the Professor would just fade away. Maybe she would find someone else more willing and capable of accommodating her evolving desires.

Hermione walked quickly up the main staircase, unaware she was being watched. After catching a few shifting stairwells, she disappeared into the corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait and the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked after the mudblood witch, scowling a little. Draco was very perceptive in his own right, particularly with women. His father had taken it upon himself to ensure Draco acquired a very thorough sexual education. He was a Malfoy after all, and all Malfoy men had a way with women. Their sires made sure of it. When the young wizard turned seventeen, his father had hired him a very beautiful, experienced and expensive call girl, who spent several weeks instructing the young and eager pupil in the ways of pleasure, the art of seduction and more importantly, how to read women. 

Draco proved to be a natural, and wasted no time in sharpening his skills on the witches of Hogwarts. He had however, learned the importance of discretion. Keeping his mouth shut ensured him of repeat dalliances. He had shagged witches in every house, including Gryffindor, and never received any complaints. He wouldn't. He was one of the few young wizards in the school who truly knew what he was doing. He had noticed subtle changes in Granger that indicated books weren't the only things holding her interest these days. Draco saw how she looked at the Professor. Why she was attracted to the wizard, he had no idea. But the fact was, she had the hots for their Potions Master. It was a waste of time on her part, however. Professor Snape would never touch her. He was too straight-laced and repressed.

Draco would do her however. She was a mudblood, but to his shame he was always attracted to her, even when she was a buck-toothed little chit. He had hated his weakness. She was gorgeous now, and showing signs of thawing out. Maybe he could find a way to utilize her unmet need for Snape to place himself in a position to seduce her. He had no desire to start a relationship with her, on the contrary he would love the opportunity to finally put her in her place.

Draco had suffered years of Hermione's insolence. She still called him "ferret-boy" from the time Mad-eyed Moody had transfigured him into a white ferret for attacking Harry. She had even assaulted him once, punching him in the nose because of a stupid hippogriff. He had never gotten her back for that. The witch also constantly beat him out in marks in every class they shared. Draco was not stupid. He was quite intelligent in his own right, if a little stuck on archaic beliefs of the inherent superiority of purebloods. Granger constantly outdoing him was a sore spot that never healed.

She might be brilliant, but she was still a filthy mudblood, and beneath him. She had the mistaken idea she was as good as he was, and she wasn't. If he could seduce her, he would give her the roughest ride of her life, and treat her in such a way her eyes would never be able to meet his with insolence again. Draco was skilled in lovemaking, but he was his father's child, and completely capable of the same brutality when it came to women. He could use his body as a weapon as easily as an instrument of pleasure. He would make the mudblood scream he was better than she was over and over if he got his hands on her. Hermione would finally learn who was the master and who was the peon.

Draco shoved his hands in his robes pockets, and let his gray eyes sweep up the stairwell again. He had to figure out a way to ease Hermione's suspicions about him. He had to find a way to make the mudblood like him. Once he succeeded in that, the rest would be easy. He sauntered back toward Slytherin house.

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Draco found an opening two days later, when Hermione was rushing through the corridor with an armload of library books she had forgotten to return that morning and were due by five that evening. She had a very good relationship with Madam Pince, the librarian, since she took very good care of the books she borrowed and always returned them on time, but the librarian did not take kindly to books being returned late. That was a sure way to sour the witch. Her books were her children, and she wanted them home on time. 

Hermione simply had too many books to start with, add to that she was approaching a group of Slytherins and you had a perfect setup for trouble. Pansy Parkinson stuck out a foot as Hermione passed. The Gryffindor didn't fall, but she stumbled and dropped the books amid uproarious laughter from the Slytherins. She scowled at the group and looked at her watch. She had five minutes. She began to gather up the books.

"Real nice, Parkinson," a familiar voice said coldly. "You have all the couth of a charging bicorn."

The laughter stopped. Hermione noticed another pair of strong hands helping to pick up the tomes. She looked up into the handsome face of Draco Malfoy. Draco gave her a small grin and continued picking up books. Hermione was taken aback and expecting some joke at her expense. Draco straightened.

"Really Granger, you need another set of arms to carry all these books," he said, looking at the pile in her arms. "I'll take these for you."

Hermione looked at Draco incredulously.

"You'll carry them?" she asked, amazed.

He shrugged. "Sure," he said, "You're going to the library right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, her eyebrows still raised in disbelief.

"I was on my way there anyway. So it's no bother, Granger," he said, striding off in the direction of the library. Hermione hurried to catch up. Draco's housemates stared after them, openmouthed.

Hermione walked alongside the tall, blonde pureblood. Draco had filled out the past couple of years. He had an athletic build and broad shoulders. He was devastatingly good looking, with angular, masculine features, and white-blonde hair. He looked straight ahead as he walked, a sober expression on his face. He turned into the library and deposited the books on the check-in counter just as the clock struck five. He turned and looked down at Hermione, who was depositing her armload of books.

"You made it," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione said hesitatingly, "But...but I don't understand why you bothered."

Draco looked at her and sighed.

"Listen Granger, since Voldemort's death and the whole deatheater thing, I've had time to re-evaluate some of the beliefs and attitudes I was brought up with. They almost cost my father his freedom, and almost brought the Malfoy family to ruin," he said, "I've decided that they just don't hold up. A person should be judged by their character, not their bloodline. There are a lot of muggle-borns that are worthy of respect that I treated like dirt for years. They didn't deserve it. You're one of them."

Hermione blinked up at the wizard, speechless as the thought of 'pod people" flashed through her head. Where was the real Draco? This couldn't be him. The blonde wizard continued.

"I can't make up for the things I've done in the past, no matter how much I wish I could, but I can try to be a better person toward you and others starting from right now. Helping you carry your books isn't a monumental change by any means, but it's a start. It's a way to at least let you know how sorry I am," he said sincerely.

Hermione stared at Draco, not knowing what in the world to say to this. Draco Malfoy admitting he had been wrong about muggle-borns. Hogwarts was going to shake on its foundations. The wizard looked down at her, his clear, gray eyes meeting her amber ones, waiting for some kind of response.

She and Malfoy had been enemies for as long as she could remember. His treatment of her as less than a second-class citizen had irked her from the very beginning. He had called her a mudblood at every turn. Now he said he was sorry for all of it. Was he telling her the truth? He certainly looked sincere, and he had carried her books in full sight of his housemates, opening himself up to ridicule by his fellow Slytherins. He didn't look as if he cared however.

"Well, it's good to hear that you've decided to give those who aren't purebloods a chance, Draco," she said carefully.

"Yes," he replied, "I only hope they'll give me a chance and not hold the past against me. I've been pretty horrible."

"Yes you have," Hermione agreed. Draco's face fell a bit.

"But everyone's entitled to a second chance. After all, you were raised up believing only purebloods mattered and it is difficult to break away from the beliefs you are raised with," Hermione said, giving him a small smile. "Even the admission that you were mistaken is quite an accomplishment, all things considered."

"Thank you," Draco said, returning Hermione's small smile with one of his own, "Hermione."

This was the first time Draco had ever addressed her by her first name. Hermione realized this and just stared at him a moment.

"You're welcome, Draco," she replied, rather awkwardly, "Um, I'm going to head down to dinner now."

"I'll walk with you. I'm on my way there," he said.

Hermione frowned up at him. "I thought you said you were on your way here," she said.

Draco sighed.

"I said that so you wouldn't protest too much about me carrying your books, Hermione. I knew it would be easier for you to accept my helping you if you thought I was on my way here anyway. I just wanted the chance to talk to you," he said.

Hermione thought about this. He was right. She wouldn't have wanted him to go out of his way and would have taken her books back. Draco seemed to know her.

"I see," she said shortly.

Both of them headed out of the library. They walked up the hall in silence. A few students did a double take at seeing the two enemies walking side by side without threatening to hex each other.

"Um, Hermione," Draco said, hesitantly.

"Yes, Draco," Hermione said looking up at the wizard.

"I wanted to ask you if we could bury the axe. If others I hurt over the years saw that we could get along, it might make it easier for me to eventually make amends to them as well," he said.

Hermione looked at him.

"I don't know Draco. We have a history of bad blood. It's not that easy just to forget about that," she said.

"I'm not asking you to forget, Hermione. I'm just asking you to give me a chance to show you and everyone else I've changed. Just a chance. I'm not a bad sort, really," he said lifting his eyebrows and looking as innocent as he could.

Hermione smirked.

"All right. I'll give you a clean slate, Draco. But if you put one mark on it, the war is back on," she said, her eyes narrowed.

"Not a mark. Not a smidgeon of one," he agreed, smiling at her broadly.

They approached the doors to the Great Hall. Hermione stopped.

"Do you want to go in first, or do you want me to?" she asked him.

"How about we walk in together?" he responded, looking at her with a challenge in his eye, "Unless, of course, you're afraid the House of Gryffindor will disown you."

Hermione snorted, "Hardly. But your Slytherin housemates might very well shun you."

Draco shrugged.

"Slytherin is not like Gryffindor," he said, "It's usually everybody for themselves anyway. We aren't all that close. Friendships are generally based on what the association can do for you. They won't shun me because of my family connections."

He opened the door for her.

"Shall we enter, Gryffindor?" he asked, bowing slightly to the witch.

"Yes, Slytherin," Hermione replied, stepping into the Great Hall and waiting for him to join her.

They walked up the aisle side by side, clearly in each other's company. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin tables stopped talking as they walked in. Draco stopped and waited for Hermione to seat herself between an incredulous Harry and Ron, before walking to the Slytherin table and taking a seat at the end of the table and helping himself to food, ignoring the stares of his housemates.

Professor Snape had watched the two students enter the Hall together, and instantly wondered what game Draco was playing. The Professor was aware how much Draco hated Miss Granger. That he would escort her to the Great Hall was completely out of character for the pureblood, unless he had some kind of scheme. Which was more than likely. The Professor was also aware of Draco's very active sex life. He had caught the young wizard in rather compromising positions more than once with a different witch each time, and he wasn't particular about what house they belonged to either. Draco had quite a number of conquests under his belt. Was he now targeting Miss Granger?

The Professor frowned. Surely Miss Granger wouldn't be swayed by Draco. They had such a history that she simply couldn't fall for his charm. He looked over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy had already charmed his housemates into ignoring his fraternization with a Gryffindor, and was chatting with them. The young wizard was very smooth. Very convincing.

Snape returned to his meal. Miss Granger wasn't like these other bubble headed females. She wouldn't fall for a handsome face and a handful of compliments. Anyway, she was still focused on him, he was sure. She couldn't have just done an about face so quickly. Or could she? Maybe after talking to him, she decided to find someone to shag just to get it out her system. Knowing Miss Granger, she might see that as the logical thing to do. Draco Malfoy would probably be more than willing to accommodate her, for his own twisted reasons. He was a lot like his father. Once he took a dislike to someone, he never changed his mind about him or her. If Miss Granger fell for his charm, she was probably in for a world of hurt.

But then again, he wasn't a watchdog for Miss Granger's virtue. If she decided to cock her legs for the pureblood, it wasn't any of his concern. She was the age of consent after all, and as long as he didn't catch her at it in some hallway or niche, she was free to do as she pleased. Snape looked at Hermione, who was arguing with Ronald Weasley, probably about her entrance with Draco. Her eyes were flashing, and her face was flushed with anger. She certainly looked every bit the lioness when she was pissed off. Suddenly she picked up a bowl of mashed potatoes and shoved them in Mr. Weasley's face. Then she stood up and stormed out of the hall, amid the raucous laughter of the other students.

Draco smirked at the mashed potato covered Weasley. The Slytherin knew he had won a small victory. If anything would drive the Gryffindor witch closer to him, it would be others telling her she couldn't become close to him. She was a contrary little chit.

Snape noticed Draco's smirk, and didn't like it. The boy was up to something unsavory. The Potions Master would have to pay closer attention to him over the next few days and find out what it was. Not because of Miss Granger mind you. He was just…curious.

* * *

Draco realized that his approach to getting closer to Hermione would have to be markedly different than with the other witches he had sex with. Most of the young women were susceptible to being taken advantage of just by his taking an interest in them. He was handsome, rich and charming after all. He was aristocracy. A young lord. So, when he turned on the heat with a few kisses, a few well placed touches and sweet words, then focused those gray eyes on a witch in some quiet, out of the way place and promised whatever they did would remain their secret, generally the knickers came off. 

But Hermione would be different. He could not express a blatant sexual interest in her as he did the other witches. It would have to seem like something they just fell into. Hermione would have to be courted without knowing she was being courted and heated up gradually. Other witches wanted flowers, candy, those types of gifts to show affection. Hermione would appreciate books, something that showed he valued her mind, rather than her body, which was quite delicious by the way

Instead of dating Hermione, studying would be the way to get in time and close proximity. . Draco was well read and bright enough to engage Hermione in intellectually stimulating conversation as well. The pureblood was really warming up to this seduction of the mudblood. When she realized that he hadn't changed, after he had humiliated and ridden the shit out of her, she'd be devastated that she'd been such a fool. Draco had always been discrete, but he was considering letting this conquest out of the bag once completed. Her shame would then be complete.

Draco began his approach by simply greeting Hermione whenever he saw her, no matter who was around, and then incorporated the rest of his plan over a period of two weeks. Hermione interpreted his actions as proof of him being sincere in wanting to establish a friendship. Ron and Harry on the other hand were sure he was trying to get into her knickers. Draco was discrete, but still word got around among the males that he was making many conquests, although the details with who were never revealed. Hermione was outraged at this insinuation.

"Draco has never made a move on me," she said to Ron, "unlike you."

Ron turned red as a beet at the reminder of his disastrous attempt at romancing Hermione during their sixth year. He had it in his mind that Hermione wanted to snog him, but just didn't know it, and that once he pressed his lips to hers, she would willingly fall into his arms and respond, thus sealing their secret love for each other. Well, it hadn't worked out that way. He made his move in the common room one night when the three friends had been studying together and Harry retired early. Hermione noticed Ron inching closer and closer on the sofa and was about to say something when he pounced, grabbing her and pressing his lips against hers hard and rather painfully, hanging on for dear life as the witch struggled to break out of his grasp.

Ron was found petrified and covered in bogeys on the common room floor the next morning. Hermione avoided him and Ron refused to tell who did the dirty deed for days, then finally admitted to Harry what he had done. Harry had told him he was lucky she didn't hex his balls off.

"Hermione," Harry said, "Draco is a dog. He's slowly shagging his way through every witch at Hogwarts. There's even rumors he's done Madam Hooch."

Hermione looked at Harry.

"All right. Who has he shagged, besides Pansy?" she asked him, her hands on her hips.

Harry blinked at her. He didn't have any names to give.

"Well, I don't know any names for fact, but the other wizards are saying he has done witches in every single house, including Gryffindor," Harry said a little lamely.

"Yeah," said Ron, "He's really good at getting in the knickers, Hermione. Why else would he be hanging around you all the time if he didn't want to shag you?"

Hermione looked at Ron.

"You hang around me. Why is that?" she asked him, her arms crossed.

"Well, I've always hung around you. I'm your friend," Ron replied.

"Maybe Draco is my friend too," said Hermione.

"Draco hates muggle-borns, Hermione. You should know that better than anyone," Harry said, "He's called you mudblood enough."

"After Voldemort died, and his family went through all that trouble, he's had a change of heart. Everyone deserves a second chance," she said, frowning at the two wizards, "And he's been nothing but nice to me. I'm not going to stop being nice to him because you two are too stubborn to give him a chance to make amends."

"Hermione, he's up to something, I know it," Harry said, "He's going to end up hurting you."

"Stop it. Just stop it. Both of you!" Hermione said, "I'm not a little child. I can make my own decisions on who to associate with, and I'm not going to let you tell me otherwise."

She stormed out the common room.

Ron watched her head up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. He looked at Harry helplessly and spread his hands.

"She won't listen to us Harry," he said, shaking his head.

Harry looked up the empty stairwell.

"I know Ron, but we tried. That's all we could do. You know how stubborn she is," Harry replied, running his hand through his messy hair.

The two wizards stood in the middle of the common room, not knowing what else they could do. Hermione was on her own.

* * *

Professor Snape was dismayed to see Draco sitting next to Hermione in Potions. Obviously the two had come to an understanding. Hermione had returned to her usual attentive self in class, once again answering questions and doing an excellent job brewing assigned potions. He figured she must have either gotten over her infatuation with him or Draco was laying pipe to her and she was sated. Neither of the possibilities appealed to him much. He gave the class a reading assignment, to be followed by a one-foot summation of the chapters read. He sat behind his desk and pulled a stack of parchments toward him that needed grading. 

From beneath hooded eyes, he looked at Draco and Hermione's body language. The witch was sitting straight up, but Draco was slightly shifted towards her. So the young wizard had an attraction to the witch.

Snape knew what he was about to do was wrong, but he needed to know. He whispered the legilimency spell and looked first into Hermione's mind, then Draco's. Snape discovered he was not gone from Hermione's psyche. He was still in there, still the object of her desire, but a little deeper from the surface than when he first divined her thoughts during detention. She was repressing her urges, somewhat successfully. But they were erotic as ever, if not more so. In the image Snape was witnessing, he was possessing her in a different position than last time. She was on her knees and he was stroking her from behind, holding her petite, jerking body by the waist and arching into her strongly. He could see himself penetrating her and went instantly hard.

"Good gods," he breathed. How the hell did she know about this?

Snape pulled out of Hermione's mind with some effort, then peered into Draco's. He quickly found an image of the wizard practically raping the Gryffindor witch painfully and berating her as he did so. Hermione was crying. The Professor pulled out of Draco's mind and his black eyes flicked up to meet Draco's gray ones. It seemed the young wizard had perceived him. If he had, then he also perceived the image the Professor saw. By the rebellious coldness in the pureblood's eyes Snape knew Draco knew he had seen his plans for Hermione. The boy had the audacity to curl his lip up in a lascivious, conspiratorial smile. Snape's eyes glittered. Draco returned to his reading.

At the end of the class, the students walked up and turned in their parchments for grading. When Draco placed his paper on the desk, Snape said, "Mr. Malfoy, I would like you to stay after class. I'd like a word with you."

Draco smiled. "Certainly sir," he replied. Hermione was waiting for him.

"Hermione, you'd better go on ahead to the library. I'll catch up to you later," he said.

Hermione shrugged. "Ok, see you, Draco," she said, turning and exiting the classroom.

Both wizards watched her go.

Draco turned to the Professor.

"What did you want to talk to me about, sir?" he asked, his eyes indicating he already knew.

Snape's eyes swept over him. He was so much like Lucius, it was almost frightening. From what he saw in the boy's mind, he was just as cruel as his father as well.

"I'd like to talk to you about Miss Granger," the Professor said evenly.

Draco considered him.

"Sir, I would like to request that this conversation be off the record, so I may speak freely," Draco said, drawing a chair out from the first row and positioning it at the side of the Professor's desk. He sat down and waited for Snape's response.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," Snape responded. He imagined the pureblood intended to come clean.

If he didn't, Snape would make him.

Draco eyed the Potions Master. He still didn't see what Hermione saw in the dark wizard. He could use a good dose of sun for one thing, he was pale as a corpse. A good shampoo wouldn't hurt either. She was probably attracted to him because he was intelligent. Draco doubted the Professor would even remember what to do with a witch.

"I imagine it isn't common to talk to one student about another, Professor," the blonde wizard drawled.

"No, it isn't a common practice, Mr. Malfoy. But I believe it is necessary we talk about Miss Granger and your intentions toward her," Snape said, his dark eyes glinting.

"Why is it necessary, Professor? My intentions toward her doesn't affect you or anyone else for that matter," Draco said.

"It is necessary because as a teacher I have a responsibility to ensure the safety and well-being of all Hogwarts students," Snape replied, "And I know for a fact, Mr. Malfoy, that you despise the witch. Why are you pretending not to?"

"Honestly?" Draco asked.

"Yes," the Professor replied.

"Because I want to do her before she graduates," Draco responded, meeting the Professor's eyes, "She's gorgeous and has a nice body. I want to do her. That's normal, isn't it?"

Snape looked at him.

"For any other young wizard, I'd say yes. But with you, Mr. Malfoy, knowing your feelings about muggle-borns I'd say it is very abnormal. You don't even like to brush against a muggle-born," the Professor said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Granger's special," Draco said, "So I've suspended my shudder response when it comes to her."

Snape looked at the wizard. He was hedging around the meat of the situation.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am well aware that you have a way with women, and have quite an active sex life here at Hogwarts. No doubt your father followed family tradition on your seventeenth birthday?" Snape asked him. He was well aware of the Malfoy tradition of providing a thorough sexual education for males.

"Yes sir," Draco said with a leer.

"Most likely you could have almost any young woman in Hogwarts. Why focus on Miss Granger when the witch obviously is focused on other pursuits?"

"You mean like you, Professor?" Draco asked, smirking.

Snape was taken aback. Had Hermione confided her attraction to him to Draco?

"Don't look so surprised, Professor. I could see Hermione has the hots for you. Maybe you want to do her yourself," Draco said.

"I don't get involved with students, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, "I teach them. I don't sleep with them."

"Well that's your loss, Professor," Draco replied, "I know if I had a pretty piece of legal ass like Granger creaming herself for me, I wouldn't hesitate to do her. A few times. As it is, I have to work for it. And that's what I'm doing."

Draco gave the Potions Master an appraising look.

"Unless you'd like to help me out and give me a hair and some polyjuice potion."

Snape scowled at Draco blackly.

"If you ever impersonate me, Mr. Malfoy I will see you expelled, then beat you within an inch of your life with my bare hands," Snape snarled, his black eyes dangerous.

Draco paled. He had witnessed the Potions Master fight another deatheater. It hadn't been pretty. Draco knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the Professor.

"I was just joking, Professor," Draco said weakly.

"Don't," the Professor responded, "I know you felt me in your mind during class, Mr. Malfoy, and you know what I saw. Explain that to me."

"That's how I plan to treat Granger," the blonde wizard replied.

The Potions Master felt his head suddenly go very hot. He wanted to throttle Draco. He fought the feeling down. He looked at the wizard, willing himself to calm.

"Mr. Malfoy, you will leave Miss Granger alone," the Professor said through gritted teeth.

Draco looked defiant.

"You can't tell me who to associate with Professor. Just because you won't touch her, doesn't mean you can stop someone else from doing what you won't," Draco said sullenly. "You don't want her. Why shouldn't I stick the filthy mudblood if she wants me to?"

Snape stayed in his chair with effort at the slur.

"You have your choice of witches, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, "Shag one of them."

"I want her, Professor. I want to do her, and I want to break her. No one's going to stop me from paying her back." Draco said, his eyes glittering with hatred, "You have no claim on her, and have no right to try to interfere with this. You are my head of house. You are not my father. You are overstepping your bounds, Professor."

Snape stood up and placed his face close to Draco's

"Bounds or not, Mr. Malfoy, if you abuse that witch in any way, you are going to have to answer to me," he said in a quiet, threatening tone.

Draco leaned back in the chair somewhat, his brow furrowed.

"Why? Why should I have to deal with you? You don't want her," Draco said, his gray eyes narrowed in defiance. Then they widened. He pointed a finger at Snape.

"You do want her," Draco said accusingly. "You want to shag that mudblood. You just haven't got the nerve to do it. You're hiding behind your teacher status. And you call yourself a Slytherin."

Snape just looked at him for a moment. Then he straightened.

"You've been warned, Mr. Malfoy. You may go," the Potions Master said, returning to his seat.

Draco stood up and frowned at the Potions Master.

"My father won't take kindly to you threatening me, Professor Snape," he sneered, "Especially over a mudblood witch."

"If your father has a problem with it, he knows where to find me," Snape replied meeting Draco's eyes.

"He won't come to you. He'll go to the Headmaster," Draco replied.

"In that case, Albus knows where to find me," the Potions Master said, his black eyes hard as diamonds as he looked at the blonde wizard, "Now I suggest you leave, Mr. Malfoy, before I help you leave."

Draco noisily dragged his chair back to the desk and exited the Potions classroom.

Snape pinched his nose. Why had he done that? Threaten Draco? His father would come to Hogwarts and raise a stink about it to Albus for sure if the boy told.

But Draco wasn't going to tell his father.

The blonde wizard made a beeline to the library and found Hermione with her face in a book. She looked up at his face, and immediately became concerned.

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked him.

Draco dropped into the seat next to her.

"Professor Snape," he replied, scowling.

"Why? What did he do?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

"It's not what he did, it's what he said," Draco replied, looking Hermione in her eyes.

"What did he say?" she asked the Slytherin.

"He told me to stay away from you. I think he's jealous," Draco answered, his gray eyes like ice.

"He what?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"He doesn't want me associating with you. I think he thinks I am interested in you beyond friendship. But that could never happen with us," he said, a little wistfully. "Anyway, he was serious."

Hermione's face went black. "He has no right to tell you that. He has no right to try and manipulate who I associate with…especially since…" here Hermione faltered.

"Since what?" Draco asked, knowing the answer was Snape showed no interest in her.

"Nothing," she said, picking up her books and starting to leave.

"Hey!" Draco called after her, getting a loud "shhhhh!" from Madam Pince. He lowered his voice. "Where are you going?"

"To give one meddling Professor Severus Snape a piece of my mind," she replied, exiting the library.

Draco sat back in the chair and smiled.

Don't fuck with a Malfoy.

* * *

Hermione stormed down the library corridor, descended the main stairwell, stalked through the main hall and turned down the dungeon corridor. How dare the Professor take it upon himself to decide who could associate with her? He had nothing to do with her outside of Potions class. He was as bad as Harry and Ron were. What was it with her and men? Why did every male she know try to tell her what to do? Did she have "I don't know how to handle my own life!" stamped somewhere noticeable on her body? Draco seemed to be the only male who could accept her as she was. Professor Snape showed no interest in her after she told him how she felt about him. He showed nothing, no reaction. He simple lectured her about how ordinary he was and her hormonal responses, then sent her back to Gryffindor tower, unrequited. He didn't even address how he felt about her wanting him. But now, he wants Draco to stay away from her? 

Draco had to be right. The Professor had to be jealous. That could be the only reason he would try to bar the wizard from her company. She and Draco were only friends. True, he was handsome, bright and enjoyable to be around. Actually, he was better company than both Harry and Ron, simply because he could focus on more than Quidditch for more than five minutes. But there was absolutely nothing romantic going on between them. Draco had been a perfect gentleman ever since they agreed to start with a clean slate. He was a good study buddy too. She finally had someone in her life that she could relate to on equal terms and it seemed like everyone was trying to ruin that for her. Well, she wasn't going to stand for it. Professor Snape was way out of line telling Draco to stay away from her, and Hermione was going to make it quite clear to the Potions Master that she would associate with whomever she wanted, and he was to stay out of it. Lost points and detentions be damned.

She came to the door of the Potions classroom and pulled it open without knocking. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, marking papers. He looked up and scowled.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here? Class is over and I'm busy," he said.

"You're busy all right, busy meddling in my affairs!" she spat at him.

Snape put his quill down.

"What in the world are you babbling on about, Miss Granger," Snape said, looking at the angry witch. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were flashing.

"You had no right to tell Draco to stay away from me. None at all. I have a right to be with anyone I want to," Hermione said, "You're just my Potions teacher. You have no authority over me outside your classroom."

For a moment, Snape's mind went back to the image of him possessing her. He certainly was in "authority" then. Snape swallowed, then narrowed his eyes at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I suggest you lower your voice and change your tone when speaking to me. I am not Ronald Weasley. Do not presume you can march into my office and scold me as if I am one of your housemates. I will be addressed with respect," he said to her in a low voice.

Hermione was taken aback for a moment, then composed herself and spoke in a more reasonable tone.

"Why would you tell Draco to stay away from me, Professor?" she asked him, walking up to his desk so she stood directly in front of it.

Snape sighed. He wasn't sure why he told Draco to stay away from her, other than the thought of the pureblood abusing her body, hell, even touching her body made him want to break the boy's neck. But he could hardly tell Miss Granger that.

"Mr. Malfoy is not the type of wizard you should associate with Miss Granger. He has a hatred of muggleborns. He could be dangerous," the Professor replied.

"Why won't anyone give him a chance? Draco has been nothing but nice to me since he rethought his attitudes. I see no reason to cut him off," she said, then added, "I'm entitled to some male company."

The Professor looked at her sharply, then stood up and walked around his desk, so he stood in front of her, only inches away. Snape looked down at her.

"You don't need his kind of company, Miss Granger," he said, scowling at her. The image came back to him as he looked at the witch.

"Who are you to decide that? He stimulates me intellectually. No one else does that, except you. And you aren't interested in keeping me company," she said looking up at him. Standing this close to him, with him towering over her and looking dangerous, was doing things to her belly.

The Professor considered the witch.

"It's not my company you think you want from me, Miss Granger. My spending any additional time with you would not be wise, given your infatuation with me," he said, his black eyes looking into her face intently. She was a lovely young witch. He felt a stirring in his loins and silently fought it back. No.

"I can't have your company, yet you want to keep me away from Draco. One might think you were jealous, Professor. Are you jealous of Draco. Think he might give me what you won't?" Hermione said, rather viciously, "maybe I should take it, and let him take care of my 'burgeoning sexual needs" once and for all."

Before he knew what he was doing, Snape grabbed Hermione roughly by the shoulders and shook her hard.

"You will not!" he hissed at her, "You will not let that wizard touch you!"

Hermione stared at the Potions Master, shocked at his loss of control. Snape looked shocked as well, and released her slowly.

"I'm…I'm sorry Miss Granger. I don't know what came over me," he said softly.

Hermione studied him.

"I got to you, didn't I, Professor? The other day in detention. What I said about how you make me feel inside, got to you," Hermione said, looking up at her teacher. Suddenly, he looked quite vulnerable. Then his eyes hardened.

"No. You did not 'get' to me, Miss Granger. I am a head of house. I listen to young witches' infatuations quite frequently. What you told me was not that much different then what my Slytherin charges confide in me," he said.

"Yes…but Professor, this wasn't about someone else. I was talking about you. Wanting you. That is a bit more personal than hearing about someone else. It had to affect you in some way, knowing that I'd willingly have sex with you at the drop of a wand, Professor" Hermione said in a low voice. Her eyes were shining up at him, "I still would. You wouldn't even have to ask me."

Snape swallowed.

"Miss Granger," he said in a hoarse voice, "You are not one of these bubble headed young witches that are easily swept away by sweet words and dreams of romance. You are a levelheaded, brilliant young witch who knows the direction she wants her life to go in. A rarity in any age. Why would you want to give yourself to a wizard who has caused you so many difficulties? You can barely stand me, Miss Granger. Your list showed that."

Hermione looked at him, into his questioning eyes. The Professor looked torn. She could tell he wanted her. She felt her body swaying towards his.

"I don't know," she whispered, "I can't find the logic for it, Professor. But you haunt my dreams, my waking moments…you slip into my thoughts at the worst times. And you don't know what it's like. What I go through. What I see you doing to me over and over. Sometimes I think if I can't do these things with you, I'll go crazy. There's times when I don't even want to come to class because I know these urges are going to torment me the moment I lay eyes on you."

"And what's worse is knowing that no matter what, you'll never relieve me. You'll never take me to your bed. You'll always see me as a student, not a woman who can choose what she wants, who she wants," Hermione said sighing. She stepped back from the Professor a bit. Then she turned away from him completely.

"Maybe I really should consider going to Draco," she said, looking across the classroom as she addressed Snape, who was staring at her back with a tormented expression on his face,

"Go to him and ask him to give me what I want from you, Professor. He wouldn't be you, but I could pretend he was. I could keep my eyes closed and concentrate on the feeling of his body in mine, his mouth on mine, and pretend it was you taking me, pretend it was your voice I was hearing whispering my name…pretend it was your hands touching me," she said, almost whispering, her eyes sad. "It would be better than what I have now. Sleepless nights filled with dreams of things, of acts that will never happen. A poor substitution is better than nothing at all."

The Professor looked at the young witch baring her soul and her despair before him, and felt his resolve weakening.

"Miss Granger, I had no idea…" he began

Hermione spun on him, her eyes flashing.

"Of course you had no idea. When do you ever think about how another human being feels? Never, because you aren't capable of even the most rudimentary feelings yourself. You know nothing about what it is to want what you can't have. You're a cold, hard man, Professor Snape… and I'm cursed…cursed with wanting you.

What the fuck was she talking about? She had no idea how much he wanted and would never have. How many times he'd been passed over…she had no idea how…

Suddenly the Professor spun Hermione towards him and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all, crushing her to his body and claiming her mouth desperately, brutally, plunging his tongue into it and sucking on her tongue as if he were starved and it would give him sustenance. The Potions Master walked forward with her until they met the wall, and he crushed his body against hers, moving against her sensually, growling, unable to help himself as he pressed against her soft curves.

Hermione was gasping against his wild possession of her mouth, whimpering in the back of her throat as she felt his hard, lean body rubbing insistently against her own with such ardor she was sliding up and down the wall. He was so urgent, so demanding, so real. Just like she imagined he would be in a situation like this. Underneath all the coldness, he was made of fire.

Professor Snape broke the kiss, and let her slide down the wall, but kept his body pressed close to hers.

"You still say I have no feelings, Miss Granger?" he panted, looking down at her. "I've seen your dreams. What you want me to do to you, and how you want me to do it. I watched myself taking you. Saw how much you loved it. How do you think that made me feel?"

Hermione was panting against the Potions Master, trying to collect herself, steadying herself against the waves of delicious feeling and hunger that were washing over her. He intoxicated her. She managed to register he had seen her fantasies.

"How?" she asked him.

"Legilimency. I looked in your mind during detention. Then earlier today in class," he breathed down at her. "Miss Granger, how do you know so much about the sex act when you are a virgin. Why are your fantasies so explicit?' he asked her, pressing against her again.

"I saw what men and women do on a porno movie," she said, looking up at him. "It looks terrible…but it's not. They like it."

"No, it's not terrible," the Potions Master said softly, the image of his possession of Hermione returning to his mind. .

He pulled himself away from the witch and turned back toward his desk. He was so hard, it was painful. He had lost control and his classroom wasn't warded. Anyone could have walked in and see him in a compromising position with Miss Granger. Hermione remained pressed against the wall, her amber eyes practically glowing as she looked at him.

"You kiss just like I imagined you'd kiss, Professor," she breathed. Snape closed his eyes as she spoke, her very voice making his desire for her try to rage out of control. "I want more," the witch said. Snape clenched his fists.

"Miss Granger, you may have seen what men and women do during sex, but you have no idea what you are asking for," he said, controlling his voice as best he could, "you have no earthly idea what it would be like to be with me."

"I don't care. I ache all over, Professor. I ache every day for you. Relieve me," Hermione said imploring me, "that's all I'm asking you to do, Professor. There are no strings, nothing to trap you into anything else. I need you."

The Professor turned to the witch, his eyes sweeping over her as she rested against the wall, her eyes bright with desire. He could close the door, ward it, place a silencing spell on it and take her until he was satisfied. He was so tempted.

"Miss Granger, I need time to consider…consider what you are asking me to do," he said his black eyes burning into hers.

"Sometimes it's possible to think too much, Professor, " the witch replied.

What? Was this coming from Miss Hermione Granger, who used logic for everything?

He stared at her a minute. He had to make himself stay in place, keep from going back to her. He was losing his composure. He was weakening.

"Give me a little time, Miss Granger. You are asking me to forego all my standards. You are asking me to trample my own integrity," he said, a scowl on his face, "It takes time to destroy a man with his own desires."

Hermione pushed herself off the wall.

"I don't want to destroy you, Professor. As I said, I can go elsewhere…" she whispered. But she didn't want to…she had tasted his passion, and her whole body was on fire for the dark wizard standing in front of her. If only he wasn't so disciplined.

"No!" he snapped, "I don't want you pretending another wizard is me. No other wizard could ever take you like me. But you don't know that. Gods."

The Professor leaned against his desk and looked at Hermione until she was trembling under his gaze. He shifted uncomfortably. His organ was hurting and his nads ached. Snape hadn't been in this condition since he was a student himself.

He looked at Hermione.

"Just…just be patient, Miss Granger. Don't seek anyone out yet. Please," he said to the witch, his eyes entreating her. He was at his last bastion. The castle was crumbling and the wolves were at the gate. He was going to lose this battle. Hermione began to walk toward him. He could see the hunger in her eyes…he couldn't touch her again, or he would break apart and throw everything to the winds.

"Miss Granger, I think you should go now. Right now," he breathed at her, standing up so he could hold her off if she approached him again. But Hermione stopped.

"All right, Professor," she said, her eye blazing into his, "I'll go."

And just like that she left him standing alone in the classroom. He had a distinct feeling of loss.

He looked after Hermione and knew it was no longer a question of if he would sleep with her. It was now a matter of when. He had fallen like all those other Professors he had felt superior to. He was no better than they were. After all his years as a spy under Voldemort, being beaten and tortured almost to the point of death, he had always found a way to rise with his standards and integrity intact. It was ironic, really that a beautiful, brilliant, young witch named Hermione Granger had brought him to his knees.

* * *

Draco was waiting near the dungeon entrance for Hermione's return from seeing Professor Snape. Hopefully the witch had given him an earful, and turned off to him as well. If the Professor thought he didn't have a chance with the mudblood, he'd probably back off. He heard footsteps and peered down the dark hallway. Yes, it was Hermione. But she didn't look mad. 

Draco peered at her, and scowled. No, she didn't look mad, she looked like she wanted sex. Draco knew the signs of a woman's arousal. Damn. What the fuck had happened in that classroom? Had Snape made a move on her. She looked like she had been snogged. Damn it.

Draco stepped out as she walked to the head of the corridor.

"Hi, Draco," she said, her voice sounding somewhat detached, as if her mind wasn't really focused on what she was saying. Draco stood closer to her and could smell a slight trace of her arousal.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Draco asked her, seething inside that Snape may have one-upped him concerning the Gryffindor witch.

Draco was desperate to even out the playing field again. Maybe he could utilize the feelings Hermione was experiencing toward Snape to suit his own ends. At least start the ball rolling towards a relationship of a more physical nature and let her know she had a pleasant alternative to Snape if she wanted it.

"I'm fine, Draco," she said.

The blonde wizard took both her hands in his. Hermione looked up, startled.

"Good, because I want to talk to you. Privately. It's concerning this thing with Snape, kind of," he said softly, "There's something I want to tell you, or ask you rather," Draco said sincerely, his gray eyes soft.

"Where do you want to go to talk?" Hermione asked him. Her head was clearing somewhat, but her body still had those delicious feelings coursing through it from her contact with the wizard of her fantasies.

"I know a place," he replied, "It will be perfect."

* * *

Snape thought about Hermione's visit. Draco was a piece of work. He had purposely told the witch that he told Draco to leave her alone, making her believe the Professor was interfering in her personal life. What had the wizard hoped to accomplish by doing this? A confrontation certainly. Possibly, he hoped the argument that ensued would be enough to break Hermione's infatuation with the Professor, freeing the witch for Draco's own use. 

Snape grinned. Well, that hadn't worked. The sexual tension between he and Miss Granger had proven too strong. The young wizard had inadvertently sealed the deal between the witch and himself, so to speak. Snape would be Hermione's first lover, though he hadn't yet informed the witch of his decision. Kissing her had been mind-blowing. If he had given in to his urges, he'd probably still be doing her, his hunger for the witch was so strong. Hermione had taken Snape over the edge when she said she would use Draco for a substitute and pretend the wizard was him. Snape scowled. Draco might be schooled in the art of love, but he was no Potions Master. Snape was a was a selfish and demanding lover, taking all the pleasure he could from a woman's body, but he never left them wanting. When he was finished, they were always very sated, if not overly sore from his ministrations. Beneath his cold exterior, the Professor was an extremely hot-blooded wizard

Miss Granger was a virgin, but a very hot and ready one if her dreams were any indication of what boiled beneath her surface. Snape was almost sure she would be able to handle him after her initial deflowerment. He certainly hoped so because she inspired a very high degree of lust in him, and if she thought the kiss was something, she had no idea what he was like when the robes came off.

He wondered at the easy way she left. She didn't try to stay to seduce him, though she had to know he was in a weakened state, She definitely was in a state of high arousal when she left him. Any man with any experience with women could see that…

He froze. Draco would probably be waiting for her to find out how the confrontation went, and the young wizard would immediately be able to discern that he had turned on Miss Granger. That brought Snape a degree of satisfaction, but there was a nagging feeling in his belly. Miss Granger was still a young, inexperienced witch, and she was very much a slave to her body's urges, although she had done remarkably well in controlling them. What if Draco tried to take advantage of her aroused state to continue where the Potions Master had left off? Snape wouldn't put it past the boy to make an attempt at seducing the witch in her weakened condition.

Quickly he walked to the floo, cast in some floo powder and contacted Minerva to find out if Hermione had arrived at Gryffindor tower. After several minutes, she informed him the witch was not there. He then flooed Madam Pince, who also gave him a negative. Miss Granger was not at the library. He then flooed the common room of Slytherin house and asked a student if Mr. Malfoy was there. The answer was no.

Well, it was still daylight, and supper was about to start in the Great Hall. She could be there. The Professor exited and warded the Potions class, heading for the Great Hall. If she or Draco weren't there, he would go looking for them.

* * *

Draco and Hermione took the stairwells up to the astronomy tower. It was never used during the day and had a beautiful view of the grounds surrounding Hogwarts. You could see for miles. It was quite a romantic, quiet place. Draco had quite a few bouts of afternoon delight up there. 

Hermione looked out the window of the tower.

"I've never been up here during the day," she breathed, "it's beautiful."

"Yes," Draco responded, his eyes on Hermione, "very beautiful indeed."

Hermione turned to look at him. She was leaning back against the windowsill. Draco stood beside her, his eyes intense as he looked at her. It was an intensity Hermione had never seen before. She swallowed.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Draco?" she asked him.

The wizard looked at her, then sighed and walked away from her a bit.

"Hermione, have you ever wanted something that you knew you had no right to have, yet it made no difference to you? You still wanted it?" he asked her, knowing full well that was the situation she was in with the Professor.

"Yes, Draco. I do know about that," she replied softly.

He looked at her.

"I mean want it so badly that you can hardly eat, hardly sleep, and it consumes your thoughts at the worst possible moment?" he asked her.

"Yes," she responded.

"And this thing you want, it is always just within reach, but you know you can't touch it, because if you touched it, it might fly out of reach forever. So you have to suffer in silence, knowing if you even speak of wanting it…it could be gone…" he said despairingly.

Hermione looked at the blonde wizard.

"Draco, what are you talking about. What is it you want so badly and can't have?" she asked him.

Draco blinked at her. "It's not a what, Hermione. It's a who," he said softly, "A very special witch who I admire above all other witches. But she doesn't know how I feel. She wants someone else, someone who doesn't feel about her like I do," he said.

Hermione looked at him, an odd feeling in her stomach as the handsome wizard's soft eyes met hers.

"Who is the witch, Draco?" she asked, her voice nearly a whisper.

Draco looked at her, then suddenly strode forward, stopping mere inches from her body, towering over her, his eyes heated.

"Her name is Hermione Granger," he said softly, "She's stolen my heart without even trying."

Hermione stared at Draco, shocked. The wizard swayed toward her, but made no move to touch her. She could feel the heat from his body wash over her, could see the desire in his gray eyes.

"Draco," she began softly. The wizard waved his hand.

"I know you could never want me, Hermione. I've been terrible to you. I regret that so much. So much. But I have to confess something to you, something I've never told anyone. I have always been attracted to you, even when you were young and had buck teeth and bushy hair. That's the main reason I was so mean to you. I wasn't supposed to be attracted to a muggleborn. I was a pureblood. Every time I saw you, I became angry at myself, and lashed out at you. You had no idea what was going on."

This much of what Draco was telling Hermione was true. He had indeed been attracted to her, and this attraction caused him to hate her for making him aware of this weakness, this flaw in his character. But still, he felt it would be a good point to bring up in his attempt to sway her towards him. Draco continued.

"And now that I have changed, I've been able to be in your presence and get to know you as a person. You are beautiful, Hermione, on the outside, but your outer beauty dulls by comparison to the beauty that is inside of you. You are kind and compassionate. You give all you can of yourself to others. You take someone who has been completely horrible to you under your wing and give him another chance. I've heard you defend me against other people, your own housemates, risking them cutting you off because you believe in me. How many people would do that? Risk themselves, their reputations for someone with a history like mine, Hermione? Not many."

Hermione was speechless as Draco looked down at her, passion burning in his eyes.

"How can I help feeling the way I do about you?" he whispered, lowering his head and hesitating, looking in her eyes to see if she would protest.

Hermione was too shocked, too moved to protest anything. Draco leaned in and kissed her. Not possessively, but softly, sweetly, capturing her lips with his own, drawing them in before moving his mouth against hers.

Hermione let him kiss her. He was not fiery like the Professor. He didn't exude an all-consuming hunger. But there was something there, something tender that the Professor was lacking in. But even in the tenderness, there was a bit of fire. She began to kiss him back, hesitantly at first. Draco felt her responding, and mentally pumped his fist as he slowly wrapped his arms around her, and held her gently, accepting her responses, and slowly increasing his ardor.

Hermione's body was already fired by the Professor. Draco's closeness was rekindling the flame that was already smoldering there. She shuddered, and the blonde wizard felt it, and deepened the kiss, allowing some passion to seep into it as he sought entrance to Hermione's mouth, licking at it lightly, hoping she would accept him. She did, the fire in her belly flaring as she felt the wizard's tongue enter her mouth and claim it.

Draco shifted her over from the open window to the wall, never breaking contact, tightening his grip slowly, very slowly as he began to press his body against hers, and felt her arms wrap around his neck. He began to caress her back, feeling her body under her robes. He slid his mouth to her throat and began to suck, and lick on it gently. She moaned.

"Hermione," he breathed, his hands beginning to explore her more. She let him slip one over her hip. Draco began to think he might be able to take her now. She was heating up nicely. Snape must have really got her going for her to respond so quickly.

Hermione was all sensation. Draco's mouth and hands were soothing on her body, easing the heat inside her, even as they caused even more burning. It would be so easy to just give over to him, and let him end this torment she'd been going through for the past few months. The Professor was hedging…he still hadn't said he would let her come to him, though he had asked her to wait. Well, she had been waiting so long already, and Draco…Draco was ready now, when she needed this.

Draco was throbbing. The little witch was so responsive. She must have been holding her need in for a long time. He could feel the heat of her body pouring off her, underneath the robes she wore. Her skin would be blazing against his. The pureblood groaned and pressed his erection against her.

"Hermione, let me," he whispered into her ear, "I'll take care of you. I know what you're feeling, what you need. No one needs to ever know. Not even the Professor," he breathed, grinding himself against the gasping witch.

But at the mention of the Professor, something dimly registered in the witch's brain. Something that gave her the strength to override her writhing, needy body and tell Draco to stop.

"You don't want me to stop, Hermione. Just let it happen," the wizard breathed, still kissing her throat, then returning to her mouth in an attempt to stop her protests.

"No, Draco, we have to stop. This is too much. Too fast," she whispered, pushing him away. Anger flashed across his face. The fucking tease. He wrestled himself under control before he did something stupid.

He stood looking at her, his arms around her waist.

"But I want you, Hermione. I would make you feel so good," he said, his eyes burning into hers. Hermione felt the ache between her thighs pulse in response, but she steeled herself.

"Draco, what's happening here might not be what it seems. I'm not sure that my feelings are honest. It might not be you that made me respond. I'm attracted to the Professor, and I was already feeling randy before we came up here. It could be what is happening between us is because of that," she said softly. "I would just be using you while wanting him."

"Then use me, Hermione," he breathed, going in for another kiss. Hermione twisted her face away, and removed his arms from around her waist.

"No, Draco, I won't do that, even though you are willing," she said, gently pushing the wizard back from her and stepping around him, fixing her robes. Her mouth was slightly swollen from his kisses, and her amber eyes were still full of desire. Draco fought back a groan as he looked at her. He wanted in. Badly. He wanted to shag the witch to tears. Damn her for being able to break away. He never should have mentioned the Professor.

"But, now you know how I feel about you, Hermione," he said softly, "you won't stop seeing me because I revealed it, will you?"

Hermione looked at him. He looked so worried.

"No, Draco…but you're going to have to control yourself. I don't know where I am right now. I'm torn," she said honestly, "I'm not ready for a relationship with anyone."

"I'd take what I could get. I'd be happy if I only had one time with you, Hermione, one time to show you how I feel about you," Draco breathed.

She looked at the handsome wizard and felt a jolt shoot through her. He was so opposite the Potions Master. But she couldn't be sure if what she was feeling was truly for Draco, or the unmet desire for Professor Snape.

"We'll see what happens, Draco. But for now, let's try to remain friends," she said, "Do you think that is possible?"

Draco looked at her, and ran his hand through his white-blonde hair. He licked his lips.

"Now that I've kissed you, Hermione, I can act like your friend, but there is always going to be desire burning underneath it. The desire for more of you. But I can control my actions. I can wait," he said, his heated eyes on her.

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"All right then Draco," she said. "How about we go down to supper now. I'm starving."

"I want to sit with you," Draco said.

Hermione looked at him, her eyebrows raised. "No, Draco. Gryffindor wouldn't accept you at the table. That would be asking too much, and implying too much. We aren't a couple," she replied. Draco's face fell. Hermione felt sorry for him.

"Maybe we can do lunch up here tomorrow," Hermione said, "if you promise to conduct yourself like a gentleman."

Draco bowed elegantly.

"Always, my lady," he responded, then he kissed her hand. Hermione drew it back, and felt like giggling. But she didn't.

"Come on, Draco. Let's go eat," she said, heading down the tower stairs. Draco followed her. Lunch tomorrow eh? Maybe he'd bring a little something extra to spice up the meal. He'd contact his father tonight and ask for his assistance. He wasn't going to wait any longer. It was clear the mudblood intended to do the Professor. There was a good chance they'd become lovers after that, and he'd be pushed aside. He would have to get to her before the Professor did.

"Draco? Are you coming?" Hermione's voice floated up from the stairwell.

"I'm on my way," Draco replied, heading down the stairs.

Hermione would be his.

* * *

A/N: An that is the end of "The List" Part 1 


	2. Part 2

**The List Final Chapter**

It was still early when Snape entered the Great Hall. The students were just starting to trickle in. He noticed Albus sitting at the head of the table. The kindly old wizard met the Potions Master's dark eyes and motioned to him to come join him. Sighing to himself, the Professor obliged him.

"Ah, Severus…please have a seat. I've been meaning to chat with you and since it is early, we might be able to accomplish this before the rest of the staff arrives," the wizard said, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.

The Professor sat down stiffly in the chair next to the Headmaster, who leveled a steady gaze at him.

"Is there something you would like to tell me, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him.

The Potions Master divined at once that Albus was referring to the situation with Miss Granger. How the old wizard knew about such things, Snape would never know. But he had intended to inform the Headmaster of the development anyway. He took a deep breath.

"Ah, yes Headmaster. There is a rather delicate matter involving a student who is of the age of consent who has taken rather a liking to me," he said softly. An understatement to say the least.

The Headmaster smiled.

"Ah yes, Miss Granger. I was wondering when you'd notice," the Headmaster replied, smiling at him. "Wonderful young witch. Intelligent, beautiful. You are a lucky wizard, Severus. You are, I imagine, going to return her…er…interest?"

The Potions Master was stunned. Albus seemed to actually approve of this. Of a teacher sleeping with a student. He blinked his eyes at the Headmaster, who grinned at him.

"Severus, don't you think after all your years of service, you deserve some happiness? You live your life like a hermit. There is nothing to bring you joy or light. I think an association with Miss Granger will bring you both. The young woman is levelheaded, intelligent and will keep you hopping," the Headmaster said.

"I don't know about levelheaded right now, sir. She seems to be led by her…emerging maturity," Snape said.

"She is led by her passion for you, Severus. It can be daunting when so new, coming from one so innocent. But once she has you, she will settle back into her familiar ways," the Headmaster said knowledgably. The Headmaster leaned forward, his eyes twinkling.

"I think, Severus, that your main worry should be whether or not you can keep up with her," he said grinning a bit lasciviously. Snape looked at him shocked, and the Headmaster laughed out loud at the startled look his Potions Master gave him.

"So, Headmaster I take it you don't frown on this kind of association?" Snape asked him. The Headmaster sobered.

"Not all attractions should be acted upon, Severus. I disapproved of Professor Lockhart's activities here greatly. But in the case of you and Miss Granger, I believe it is a good match. You both have something to offer each other beyond the physical attraction. I think you can make each other happy if you choose to go the long term, and I think neither will have regrets if the affair is short term. So in this case, you both have my blessing," Albus said, nodding at Snape.

The Potions Master could hardly believe it. Albus approved of his indulgence with the Gryffindor witch. And he found that the Headmaster's approval made him feel less uncomfortable about his desire for the witch.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Snape said warmly as the rest of the staff filed in.

Snape excused himself from Albus' presence and walked to the edge of the dais. He scanned the Great Hall for Draco or Hermione. He didn't see either. He felt his chest grow tight. Had the young wizard taken her someplace and seduced her? Gods, he hoped not. The boy would ruin her with such an experience. The Professor felt a cold rage washing over him. If Draco had abused Hermione, the boy would pay. He didn't care if he was a Malfoy.

Just as the Potions Master was about to leave the Great Hall, the doors opened and in walked Hermione and Draco. Hermione had a flushed look about her, and the Potions Master's nostrils flared. It took all his strength not to go to her and ask her if anything happened between her and Draco. The blonde wizard was walking beside her, and looking rather smug. He met the Potion Master's eyes rebelliously, then cut them over at Hermione rather possessively. The feeling that rose in the Potions Master's chest could only be described as going into battle mode. He wanted to beat the young wizard senseless. Snape watched as Draco walked Hermione to the Gryffindor table. Her housemates barely looked up, having accepted the friendship between the Gryffindor witch and the Slytherin wizard. Only Ron's eyes glinted maliciously, but he knew better than to say anything. He didn't want a repeat of the mashed potato incident.

The Potions Master took his seat, his black eyes focused on Hermione. He found that his attraction to the witch had led him to break several self-imposed rules, the foremost being his use of legilimency for personal reasons. He broke it again, whispering the spell and looking into Hermione's mind. What he saw there made him furious. Draco was kissing and caressing her, and she was responding to the young wizard. Jealousy reared up in his breast, as well as a sense of anger, and yes, betrayal. He continued to watch the scene and breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione pushed the wizard away. So Draco hadn't managed to take her. Thank the gods. The Professor didn't miss the flash of anger and malice that washed over the pureblood's face. He had probably considered forcing himself on her. If he had, Snape would have killed him outright.

The Potions Master realized he had to tell Hermione that he desired her, and wanted to slake her thirst for him. He wasn't sure if they would remain lovers afterwards. His current desire for the witch was purely physical. He would leave that open, though the idea of having a beautiful, intelligent young woman to engage when he wished appealed to him. Actually, the thought of intelligent conversation appealed to him as well. He was still upset that Hermione had responded to Draco. When he took her, he would do his best to wipe any residual attraction to the wizard away, making her only desire his touch, his possession. Draco had been too tame when he tried to seduce the Gryffindor. If he had been more demanding, he might have convinced her. The Professor had the advantage of seeing what Hermione desired beforehand, and though passionate, it hadn't been gentle. His kiss hadn't been gentle either, and she had loved it. Miss Granger seemed like the perfect woman on which to slake his passions.

The Potions Master looked over at Draco, who was sitting quietly, eating. He wasn't chatting with his fellow Slytherins, but seemed deep in thought about something. The Professor tried to probe the young wizard's mind, only to have the pureblood turn and look at him directly. Hmm. Draco must have had some occulmency training. The boy frowned at him, then gave an evil smirk, turning back to his meal. Draco's mind wasn't completely blocked but any reference to Hermione was. Snape let him be. For now. He knew Draco would not take his failure to seduce Hermione lightly. The boy was too on point to discern what he was up to. Maybe the Potions Master would visit him tonight, while he slept. Now that sounded like a plan.

* * *

After finding out Hermione planned to spend a quiet evening in Gryffindor tower, Draco returned to Slytherin house after supper and went directly to his room and retrieved his two-way mirror. He held it up.

"Lucius Malfoy," he said into it. His reflection clouded. After several minutes, a similar, more mature face appeared in the glass. His father.

"Hello, Draco," his father said, smiling at his son, "How are things at Hogwarts?"

"Things are fine, father," Draco replied, "but I need a powerful lust potion."

Lucius frowned.

"A lust potion? Draco, don't tell me you are having such problems with seducing a woman you need to use a lust potion. That is entirely unacceptable. You simply have to try harder," his father said.

Draco frowned back at his sire.

"This is a special case, father. It involves the mudblood Hermione Granger and Professor Snape," Draco said eagerly. Lucius' eyes flashed at both these names. He knew and despised the mudblood witch, who had been beating out purebloods in marks since she first came to Hogwarts. He had met her, and found her full of pride and arrogance, even having the audacity to challenge his views on pureblood superiority. He himself wanted to take the little witch down a few pegs, very brutally. But she was untouchable. And Snape, that fucking traitor. Lucius hated the wizard. He had foiled everything, spying for Dumbledore.

"Tell me what is going on, son," Lucius said, interested. When he heard what Draco planned for the mudblood that Professor Snape had an interest in, he was extremely pleased. He could exact revenge on both with one act. He was proud of his son's deviousness. He agreed to have the lust potion delivered by owl post in the morning.

"Thank you, father," Draco said.

"It is my pleasure Draco. And when you're doing that mudblood, give her a few hard ones for me. Be sure to tell her they are for me." Lucius said, his gray eyes glittering with malice.

"Yes sir," Draco replied. His father's image disappeared from the mirror. Draco put it away. He lay back in the bed for a moment, thinking about his interlude with Granger. He had almost had her. He swelled at the memory. He looked down at the bulge beneath his robes, then stood up and stripped down to his silk boxers.

Draco walked to the bedroom door, opened it and bellowed, "Pansy!"

After a moment, he heard her voice.

"Yes, Draco?" Pansy called up. She was down in the common room.

"Come up here," he called back down.

He waited, and he heard her footsteps hurrying up the stairs. She walked up to the room door and peeked up at him. Her eyes instantly heated up when she saw him shirtless and in his boxers. Draco opened the door wider, given her a familiar look.

"Come in here," he said in a commanding voice. Pansy liked to be ordered about. It turned her on. The witch walked into his room without hesitation. Draco closed the door and warded it. Pansy was the only witch he was open about. They had been involved sexually since his fourth year, though they were never a couple. Pansy generally serviced him at will. There were several other Slytherin males that had her on call as well. All were well connected. Pansy planned to utilize those connections after graduation, by extortion if necessary. She was a shrewd witch with very little conscience when it came to getting what she wanted.

Her eyes swept over the beautiful form of Draco Malfoy. He looked like a god with his blonde hair, gray eyes and well-muscled body. She noticed he had a good erection going on.

"Now who caused that?" she asked him curiously. "Don't say me. You had it before I got here."

"Never mind who caused it," Draco growled, grabbing Pansy and pushing her down to her knees. "You just take care of it."

He lowered his boxers and felt Pansy take him into her warm mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back and enjoying her ministrations. She had been doing this so long, she knew exactly what he liked and how he liked it. He looked down at her bobbing head.

"Make it quick, Pansy," he hissed. "I want to turn in early."

This disappointed Pansy. Usually Draco would give her a quickie after she blew him. But she sped up and soon Draco was groaning, filling her mouth with his release. She swallowed it down neatly. Pansy never made a mess.

"Thanks, Pansy," Draco said, looking down at the witch as she rose to her feet. "I owe you one."

"You sure do," she griped, miffed he wasn't going to shag her, "and I don't expect to wait forever for it either." She turned and walked out his bedroom, going to get her toothbrush.

"Greedy little chit," Draco smirked, pulling up his boxers and climbing into bed. He lay there a while, thinking about the ways he would take Hermione after giving her the lust potion. He was definitely going to get her to blow him and then bugger her. Full penetration and no lubrication either. After a while he fell asleep, dreaming of Hermione's defilement at his hands.

* * *

At about two in the morning, the door to Draco's bedroom opened. A black-robed form glided in silently and looked down on the sleeping wizard.

"Legilimens," a silky voice whispered.

There was silence as Draco's mind was probed. Black eyes went hard as diamonds. Pale hands clenched in an effort not to strangle the boy. The figure turned and left the bedroom as silently as he entered. A black scowl contorted his features. It figured Lucius would have a hand in this.

Snape walked down the stairs, through the common room and into the dungeons corridor. Still scowling, he returned to his rooms to think.

He had a plot to foil.

* * *

The next day in Potions class Draco arrived two minutes late. He was carrying a large picnic basket of food he had collected from the kitchens for his and Hermione's lunch in the Astronomy Tower. In his pocket, he carried the flask of lust potion his father had delivered this morning. He was prepared for his time with Hermione.

The Potions Master sat at his desk, reading over some parchments.

"Fifty points from Slytherin for lateness, Mr. Malfoy. Next time move a little faster," Snape said, not looking up from his desk as Draco slid into the first row and sat next to Hermione. His housemates groaned. The blonde wizard looked at the Potions Master in shock. Snape rarely punished students in his own house.

"But, Professor," Draco began.

""Twenty more points from Slytherin," Snape said, his black eyes glinting at Draco maliciously, "do you want to go for twenty more? Keep protesting then, Mr. Malfoy."

The blonde wizard scowled at the Potions Master. He knew he was being targeted because of Hermione. The witch looked at the Potions Master too, knowing that his rivalry with Draco was making him punish the young wizard. Well, she could expect nothing less of him. This was standard Snape.

Hermione felt her stomach roll when the Professor's black eyes swept over her. She thought she saw a little heat in them, before he looked back down at the parchment he was reviewing. After a minute, the Professor rose, walked to the chalkboard and wrote the word "LAB" on the board. Ah, so they were going to do some brewing today.

The Professor began to write the brewing ingredients and instructions on the board, the students copying them down on parchment. The Professor than walked out of the class for a moment, then returned wheeling in a cart that held the items they students would need to make the potion.

"Today, we are making a blanket lust potion antidote," the Potions Master said, pacing back and forth as he spoke. "The use of lust potions on unsuspecting wizards and witches often results in unwanted pregnancies, as well as puts them through the humiliation of having unwanted, unplanned intercourse with another party. One of the worst aspects of being given a lust potion is the individual's ability to remember everything about the acts they performed, including their inability to stop what is happening to them. A person under the influence of a lust potion can be told to say and do anything in order to receive relief. Giving a person a lust potion without her or his knowledge can result in serving a prison sentence in Azkaban. It is considered to be rape, since the person given the potion consents only because they are under the potions influence and has no choice in the matter."

Here the Potions Master's black eyes slid to Draco. The blonde wizard was looking at him with an expression of dull horror on his face. The Potions Master seemed to know of his plan for Hermione. Damn. How did he fucking know?

"So if you have been tempted to use a lust potion to attain someone you desire, I suggest you think again. The penalty for such an act is harsh. Better to hone up on your seductive skills. Today's potion is a powerful brew that will counteract most lust potions moments after it is imbibed. Please follow the instructions carefully because a mistake can cause extreme damage. Row one, please gather your ingredients and proceed to the lab."

Draco and Hermione picked up their parchments on which the instructions were written, carried them to the cart and gathered the necessary ingredients. They then walked to the lab. Heated caldrons were already set up. They chose stations next to each other and started on their brews. Draco was cursing internally. Fucking Snape. He was going to try to ruin this for him.

Another student set up a station next to Draco, who cut his eyes at her. Suddenly he gave a small, wicked grin. He had an idea how to get Snape off of him, at least long enough to complete his defilement of Hermione.

For the next hour, the students worked on their potions, the Professor gliding through them, watching their progress carefully, stopping students here and there with a question, then continuing on. He stopped behind Draco and watched him carefully. He didn't say anything to the wizard because he was doing impeccable work. He moved on to Hermione, standing a bit closer behind her than he did the other students. No one noticed this but Hermione and Draco. Hermione could feel the heat of the Potions Master's lean body behind her, and fought the urge to lean back and connect with him. Snape leaned in and moved his mouth close to the witch's ear." Hermione could feel his warm breath waft across it when he spoke to her..

"I need to talk to you after class, Miss Granger," he purred silkily, "I think you will like what I have to say."

Hermione felt her stomach turn over. He could only mean one thing.

"Yes, Professor," she said a bit huskily.

Draco heard the exchange. So Snape was planning on telling her he'd return her interest. Well, he'd be getting spoiled goods if Draco had anything to do with it. Some students were bottling their potions and bringing them up to Snape's desk. Draco picked up a pinch of powdered dovesbane and surreptiously tossed it into the caldron next to him as the brewer was otherwise occupied, then moved a bit closer to Hermione. The witch, who happened to be a member of Slytherin house, moved back over the cauldron to add her final ingredient. Suddenly the cauldron flared, the light hitting the witch in the face, scalding her. She screamed and fell over. Her body started convulsing.

"Professor!" Draco shouted as Hermione tried to help the witch.

Professor Snape ran over to the witch, gave her a quick examination, then swept the burned, shuddering young pupil into his arms.

"You all finish up here and go to lunch," Snape said, whisking through the classroom and out the door with the witch, heading for the infirmary. Draco smirked. That should hold the Professor for at least an hour.

He hurriedly bottled his potion and carried it to Snape's desk, deposited it, and grabbed the wicker basket. Hermione had already turned in her potion. She was standing there looking after Snape.

"I hope Merelda will be all right," she said, "she was pretty badly burned."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Draco responded, "Poppy is great with patching up Potions injuries. She's been doing it for years. Now, let's do lunch."

He smiled at Hermione, who returned his smile. Draco moved toward the classroom door.

"All right, Draco. I hope you have something good in that basket. I'm starving," she replied, falling in step beside him.

"Don't worry," Draco said, "I've got just the thing to sate your hunger, Hermione."

They walked up the main stairs and headed for the Astronomy tower.

* * *

Snape was hovering over his injured student. Her face was badly burned. She had no eyebrows left and her eyes were seared shut. The front of her hair was burned away. She was in great pain, and convulsions wracked her body. Poppy attended her, trying to first address the convulsions and the pain.

Merelda Bascombe was a good student. She was generally a stickler for following procedure. What had gone wrong? She was also one of his, a Slytherin.

"Severus, sit down!" Poppy said, pushing him toward a small folding chair.

Snape sat down on the edge of the chair, his black eyes focused on the writhing girl's ruined face. She was such a pretty young woman. This was terrible.

"Will you be able to heal her face, Poppy?" Snape asked.

The medi-witch looked at him, her face softening.

"You got her here swiftly, Professor. I should be able to restore her," Poppy replied.

"Thank the gods," Snape breathed.

Poppy passed her glowing wand over Merelda's body several times and finally the convulsions stopped. She turned to Snape.

"All right, I've stopped the convulsions, Severus. Now I have to give her something for pain. While I'm working on her, you need to fill out the report. I have the forms in my office. They are in the file cabinet under "Potions Accidents" You know the routine. Use my desk," she said.

Snape nodded. There were ten pages of forms to fill out. He was glad only one student was injured. Draco was right next to her, he could've been burned as well. But luckily the boy was standing close to Hermione when the cauldron blew. Very close.

The Professor frowned, remembering Draco and his plans for Hermione, and his eyes narrowed as a disturbing possibility entered his mind. The wizard couldn't have purposely contaminated Merelda's brew as a distraction, could he? Snape felt a coldness sweep over him. Yes, he was a Malfoy. The boy was perfectly capable of harming an innocent person in order to gain his own ends. If a student was injured, the wizard knew that Snape would have to accompany him or her to the infirmary and fill out a lengthy accident report.

Snape hurried into Poppy's office, his heart pounding and retrieved the forms. According to school protocol he couldn't leave the infirmary until they were completed and stamped by Poppy. The Professor sat down, retrieved a quill and started writing furiously.

* * *

Hermione was busily taking food and utensils out of the basket, and setting it up on a checkered tablecloth spread on the stone floor of the tower. There were cold chicken legs, soft crusty bread, potato salad, three bean salad, lemon pie and pumpkin juice, which Draco had brought to the windowsill and was pouring into glasses. He slipped a hand into his robe pocket, and removed the small bottle of lust potion. He opened it and sniffed it. Yes, odorless and tasteless, just as his father said. The instructions said he only needed to add a few drops, but the wizard dumped the entire contents in, returning the empty bottle to his pocket. He added some never-ending ice and brought the juice over to Hermione, handing her the drugged glass smiling.

"Thank you, Draco, " she said, setting it down. The wizard's eyes followed the glass. Then he sat, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

"You brought the perfect picnic food, Draco. I love cold chicken and potato salad," Hermione said, spooning some salad on her plate and a chicken leg. She then fixed a plate for Draco and slid it over. She bit into the chicken and sighed with pleasure.

"This is good," Hermione said chewing. She noticed Draco was just watching her and not eating.

"Aren't you going to eat, Draco?" she asked, picking up the pumpkin juice and taking a healthy swallow. Draco grinned at her darkly.

"I'm going to take care of my appetite in a minute, Hermione," he said, letting his eyes drift over her. Father said the lust potion worked quickly.

Hermione took another bite of chicken. Then she put it down and wiped her hand across her forehead.

"Is it hot to you, Draco?" she asked, grabbing her robes and shaking them so some air would circulate beneath them.

"It is getting rather warm," he drawled, his gray eyes focused on her intently.

Hermione began to unbutton her robes.

"It's way too hot for these," she said as her fingers flew down the front. Draco watched her silently as she stripped off the robes. She was now in her school uniform. A sheen was developing on her face.

"Cooler, now?" Draco asked her.

"No. I still feel hot, and…and…strange," the witch said, wiping her brow again.

"Maybe you should undo the top buttons of your blouse," Draco suggested.

"Yes,' Hermione breathed, unbuttoning them. She looked at Draco, her eyes slightly confused.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked her softly, hardening.

"I…I…don't know. Suddenly I feel a strong urge to…to kiss you," she said, looking at him, her amber eyes starting to heat up.

"You can do that," Draco said, getting up, walking over to Hermione and sitting down next to her. The witch leaned in and kissed him gently. She pulled back.

"Draco, I…I," she said, her eyes still confused.

"Just do what you feel, Hermione," the blonde wizard said, leaning toward her.

Hermione kissed him again, this time with more ardor. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and felt her body instantly ignite with desire. Draco wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, feeling her kiss grow deeper and more intense. She slid her hands over his chest, feeling his body beneath his robes. She wanted, needed to touch his skin.

"Draco," she said against his mouth, "take off your robes. I want to touch you."

Draco quickly unbuttoned his robes and shrugged out of them. Hermione continued to kiss him, her mouth sliding from his and moving over his throat.

"You taste so good, Draco. Gods," she murmured, sucking on his neck. The wizard let her do it, his eyes closed, leaning his head away to give her more access. That potion was good. He felt her fingers rise to the buttons of his shirt. She stopped kissing him a moment.

"Your shirt…I…I want to touch your skin, Draco," she said, her amber eyes burning now.

"Go ahead, Hermione," Draco said hoarsely. The witch began to unbutton his shirt, she got it halfway open when she leaned in and began to kiss and lick the wizard's chest.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Hermione gasped as her mouth moved over his skin. She was hot all over. Her skin felt as if it were on fire.

"I do. You want to be shagged by a pureblood, you mudblood," Draco breathed as she continued to kiss him.

Dimly, the term mudblood registered.

"Draco, she breathed, pulling back from him with an effort, "you called me a mudblood," she said.

"Yes. That's what you are. A filthy, little naïve mudblood. It was so easy to get to you, Hermione," Draco said coldly, his eyes hot with victory. "Keep kissing my chest."

Hermione fell back to kissing and licking his torso, horror taking over her mind. She couldn't stop.

"Lust potion," she said against his skin, taking a nipple into her mouth gently. Draco hissed.

"Right in one. And I'm going to shag you like the mudblood slut you are. Intelligent. Hah. You are so stupid to have believed I wanted to be your 'friend'. That idiot Potter and Weasley were right this time, you should have listened to them. Your compassion is going to cost you."

Draco pushed Hermione down on her back roughly and climbed on top of her, pressing his erection between her thighs, and moving against her. Hermione groaned.

"Yes, you want my pureblood wand, don't you Hermione? Answer me, whore," Draco breathed, looking down at the aroused witch.

Hermione had tears in her eyes. She knew what was happening but she couldn't stop herself. It was a nightmare.

"Yes," she said brokenly. Draco began to unbutton her blouse, revealing her bra-encased breasts. He looked at them appreciatively.

"You have nice tits, mudblood. Want me to suck them?' he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, writhing.

"Not yet. I want to tell you something first. It's always been my intention to use you, mudblood. To stick my tool in you in every possible way. You've given me nothing but shit for the past seven years. I hate you more than anyone else in this world. When I do you, I'm going to hurt you. I am going to return every bit of pain your very presence caused me. You are nothing. A fucking freak of nature. You shouldn't even exist, you bitch. True witches don't come from muggles. I don't know what the fuck you are.

I'm going to take you because I hate you, Granger. I'm going to make you suck me too. Fill up that insolent mouth of yours with eight inches of superiority and make you swallow my seed. And you're going to want it. You're going to want every bit of humiliation I cause you, you slag. This is the only thing you're good for. Other people may tell you you're meant for better things, but trust me, you're nothing but a whore. And I'm going to show you you're a whore. You're a whore, aren't you?" he asked her, rubbing his erection against her hard.

Every bit of Hermione's mind was screaming don't say it. Don't say it. But she did.

"I'm a whore," she whispered as she thrust back against the hateful wizard.

Draco smiled cruelly.

"That's right, mudblood, a fucking whore," he purred. Draco pulled her bra up roughly and bit her lightly on her exposed breast, before sucking her nipple into his mouth hard, laving it with his tongue, causing Hermione to arch up against him, moaning, her hand wrapping in his blonde locks and pulling his head against her breast. He growled against her.

"You don't deserve to be shagged by a pureblood. It's an honor not meant for freaks like you," he said as he ran his mouth over her other breast, then looked into her heated amber eyes. "Tell me you're not worthy." He sucked on her hard.

"I'm not worthy!" Hermione cried out. Draco started, and reached for his robe. He took out his wand and cast a silencing spell. Then a contraceptive spell.

"Your womb isn't fit for a Malfoy," he hissed as she felt the spell tingling inside her. He pushed himself off her, rising to his knees and began to unbutton his pants. Hermione writhed in front of him as he pulled out his organ. He stroked it, looking down at her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, mudblood? You're a lucky witch," he breathed. Then he stuck his hand under her skirt, and her knickers, feeling her moistness. His handsome face contorted with lust. Hermione was bucking, trying to get him to touch her more, but he drew his hand away.

"I'm not for your pleasure, mudblood, I'm for your pain. I'm not about to put my mouth on you," he hissed at her, wiping his hand on his pants. He didn't want to taste her. It might tempt him. He folded her skirt back and laid on her again, his shaft resting on the wet crotch of her knickers. He rubbed it against her. She cried out, pleading with him.

"You want me to do you right now, don't you mudblood? Even though I think you are filthy and beneath me, unfit for anything decent. You aren't good enough for me. You think you are, but you're not. You are some kind of mutant that shouldn't even be walking the earth. But I will ride you, hating you the entire time. Your first will be a wizard that hates you. You'll carry this with you the rest of your life," Draco breathed, his eyes glittering as he lifted his hips and reached under her skirt, pulled her knickers down, then ripped them off of her. He now rubbed himself skin to skin into her wetness, his shaft sliding up and down against her clit. Hermione begged and moaned for penetration, for relief, even as her mind was glazing over with horror. It was like watching herself from a distance and being unable to do anything to stop what she was seeing.

Draco worked himself against her soaked core, his smoky eyes locked on her face, reveling in her desire for him. He could see the terror and the shame underneath her lust. She didn't want this, but couldn't stop it. His revenge was sweeter than he ever imagined. Soon she would be screaming his name, and he'd be buried in her to the hilt, taking her most precious part and telling her it meant nothing to him at all. Draco shuddered against Hermione, his member swelling to painfulness.

"It's time, mudblood," Draco breathed, beginning to hoist her legs.

* * *

"Poppy! Stamp these! Quickly!" Snape said holding out the stamp and the forms to the medi-witch, who was passing a wand over Merelda.

"In a moment, Severus," she said, continuing healing the student.

"Poppy! Please! I have to go!" Snape said, shaking the papers at her.

The medi-witch turned and looked at the Professor, shocked by the contorted look on his face.

"Severus, what's wrong?" she asked him.

"Poppy, I don't have time, just stamp these so I can go!" he said. The healer took the papers, laid them on the bed and stamped them one by one as Snape paced.

"There, they're stamped," she said, looking at him oddly. Snape hastily scrawled his name and ran from the infirmary, his robes billowing. Poppy blinked after him. This was the first time the Potions Master left a student without knowing if they would be all right. She shook her head and returned to working on Merelda.

Snape ran to the shifting stairs and jumped to the landing, scrambling up the steps as fast as he could go toward the Astronomy tower where Draco and Hermione were having lunch. His robes were tangling in his legs as he ran and he tore them off, leaving them on the stairwell. He almost fell twice, leaping for the moving landings, but he had no concern for his own safety. He cursed himself for letting Albus cancel his apparition privileges after Voldemort's death. He was the only one at Hogwarts who could apparate directly in the castle, because of his need to be able to make it back when suffering from the Cruciatus curse or beatings. He usually couldn't navigate the grounds in his condition. The power to apparate would be of great benefit now.

He leaped to the final landing and ran down the corridor that led to the long stairwell that opened on the Tower. He slid past it, then ran back, taking the steps three at a time his heart pounding in his chest…if Draco had taken her…

He emerged into the Tower and saw Draco on top of Hermione, placing her legs on his shoulders. The Potions Master roared and in one stride was there. He grasped Draco by the back of his shirt and flung the startled young wizard off of the witch.

"No!" Hermione cried, sitting up and reaching after Draco. The Professor looked down at her, then knelt, looking into her eyes. They were dilated and full of lust. Her blouse was open and her bra lifted from her full breasts. The scent of her arousal was powerful.

"No, Professor. I want him…" Hermione pleaded, her amber eyes burning into his.

Snape felt his heart constrict and he turned his head to look at Draco. He rose slowly, murder in his eyes. Draco had risen from the ground, tucked his tool back in his pants and was buttoning his shirt. His gray eyes met Snape's.

"You can see she wants me, Professor," he said.

Snape hesitated as Hermione wailed Draco's name. The Professor stalked over to Draco's robes, picked them up and rifled through the pockets until he found what he was looking for. The empty bottle of lust potion. The Potions Master examined it, then shook it. He looked at Draco, before placing the bottle in his own pocket.

"You gave her the whole bottle?' he roared at the wizard. "A whole bottle of lust potion? You fucking animal!"

Before the Potions Master knew what he was doing he launched himself at Draco, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, choking him.

"I should kill you," Snape seethed, death in his black eyes.

"What? Over a fucking mudblood? She's nothing, Professor," Draco spat back at him.

Snape held him a moment. Then he released him.

Draco straightened his collar and looked at Hermione, who was still reaching out for him, calling to him, begging him to finish.

"We should both do her, Professor. No one would know," the wizard said, his gray eyes conspiratorial..

Snape hit him. Hard.

There was a loud crunch when the Potions Master's fist connected with the young wizard's jaw. Draco was slammed to the ground, out cold.

"I would know, you filth," Snape said quietly.

He turned to Hermione, who was sitting quietly now, looking at Draco's unconscious body. Her amber eyes flicked up to his as he approached her. He knelt, and pulled her bra down, then started buttoning her blouse. She put her small hand on his.

"You could do it, Professor," she said achingly, "You could release me. End this for me. Please."

Snape looked at her, then continued to straighten her out, lowering her skirt. His eyes swept over the patch of chestnut hair before he did. He swallowed.

"No, Miss Granger. You are under the influence of a lust potion," he said.

"But I want you even without a lust potion, so what difference would it make, Professor?" she asked him, trying to pull him to her. Snape resisted.

"The difference is, Miss Granger, that under the influence of this potion, you would let anyone have you. In your normal state, you would only let me. I would rather wait until you wanted only me," he said, lifting her into his arms. She tried to kiss him, and failing at that, she ran her hands over him, trying to reach the front of his pants. He twisted away and pinned her arms down, cursing Draco.

"I have to get you to the infirmary, Miss Granger. Luckily we have plenty of antidote. Draco gave you an unconscionable amount of potion," he said gently, carrying her toward the stairs. He stopped by Draco and wandlessly bound him.

"Your father's going to spend a lot of money keeping you out of Azkaban," he said to the unconscious wizard, prodding him with his toe. The wizard moaned.

"The Aurors will be here to get you soon," Snape said, as Hermione suckled on his neck. He pulled her away from him.

"Stop it!" he hissed.

"I can't," she whispered back at him, trying to reach his throat again.

Snape sighed and allowed her access as he carried her down the stairs, knowing it would ease her ache to touch him. Her mouth was warm, soft, and maddening. He felt himself swelling, and for a moment was tempted to take her instead to his rooms. But carrying a writhing, suckling, knickerless Hermione through the halls of Hogwarts in full sight of its residents was out of the question. Plus, he meant what he said. He didn't want her like this. She just…just felt so good.

Snape turned down the corridor and took the shifting stairwells down to the infirmary floor. A student passed them and stopped, looking at the robeless Potions Master and the moaning Hermione curiously.

"What are you looking at?" the Potions Master demanded, giving the boy a black scowl.

"Nothing sir," the student said, skittering away.

Snape pushed the infirmary door open with his foot and sidled in with the aroused witch.

Hermione looked around.

"Ooh, look. Beds, Professor," she said, her eyes glowing.

Snape groaned and walked faster.

"Poppy!" he bellowed, "I need your assistance!"

He lay Hermione down on a cot, and she pulled him down towards her with amazing strength, locking her lips to his, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He helplessly let her kiss him for a moment, savoring her taste, her ardor and her heat. He heard a throat clear behind him. He broke away from Hermione to find Madam Pomfrey standing there, her arms crossed and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Lust potion," Snape said lamely, licking his lips and rising from the side of the bed, unlocking Hermione's arms with effort, "I..I was just helping to ease Miss Granger's symptoms."

"So I see," Poppy said stiffly, walking to the witch's side and leaning over her. She checked Hermione's eyes.

"She's been given quite a dose. Do you know who did it?" she asked the Professor.

"Draco Malfoy," Snape replied, his eyes narrowing.

Poppy clucked her tongue.

"Such a handsome young Slytherin. Why would he stoop to something like this?" she asked, loosening the writhing Hermione's clothing as best she could. The witch was reaching out for the Professor imploringly.

"Obviously his charms were not enough," the Potions Master growled, his eyes on the young woman he longed for.

"Well he deserves Azkaban for this," Poppy said, placing a cool cloth against Hermione's brow, "though I doubt he'll see it. His father will make sure of that."

Snape said nothing. She was right. Suddenly Hermione lurched up and screamed for the Professor. He looked shocked as she fell back and writhed.

Poppy looked at him.

"Professor, you're going to have to go. The lust potion is in full effect now," the medi-witch said as she used her wand to put restraints on Hermione's wrists and ankles, securing her to the cot. "Any male presence will just aggravate her condition. I will apply the antidote, but she has consumed so much potion that it will be a day or so before she recovers."

The Professor nodded, unable to take his eyes off Hermione, straining against the restraints and calling out to him desperately. She was promising him some very dirty rewards if he would just come to her. He was getting an erection and Poppy had turned a deep, deep shade of crimson.

"You'd better go, Professor," the healer said in a strangled voice. Snape nodded and reluctantly left the witch behind. He was wondering what kind of sick wizard he was. The restraints had turned him on as much as her words and writhing body had. He pulled the bottle out of his pocket. Quite a powerful and expensive potion. But then again, the Malfoys could afford the best. He went to find the Headmaster and inform him of what happened.

Draco would be arrested and taken to the Ministry for holding until his father was contacted. No doubt Malfoy senior would send the best lawyers galleons could buy, and the boy would be home by nightfall. Draco would of course be expelled from Hogwarts, until the trial at least, if there were a trial. Malfoy had powerful connections and would use them to protect his son. Snape doubted he would get more than a slap on the wrist.

At least he hadn't taken Miss Granger. That privilege was still his.

* * *

It was several weeks before things returned to normal for Hermione and the Professor. Draco's father had put up one hell of a fight to keep his son out of Azkaban, and succeeded. Hermione was subjected to interview after interview with Aurors, Ministry officials and Draco's legal counsel. The use of veritasserum was effectively blocked by Draco's lawyers, so the young wizard was not forced to reveal the truth under its influence. Professor Snape's testimony was stricken from the record in exchange for him not being charged with breaking Draco's jaw. Hogwarts teachers were not to physically assault students, and he could have lost his job. Snape agreed to this only at Albus' insistence. The Headmaster did not want to lose him. So it came down to Hermione's word against Draco's word, especially after the evidence, being the lust potion bottle, disappeared mysteriously. Without the bottle there was no real case.

What Draco's counsel claimed was Hermione was a tease that had driven the young Malfoy wild over a period several weeks with unmet promises of sexual intercourse. They also claimed the wizard was unable to eat or sleep, driven to distraction because of the witch, and was not himself when the unfortunate incident occurred. It was found that Draco was a victim of his own adolescent sexual drive, and not yet mature enough to handle them. So the young wizard was released and the record of his arrest, sealed.

However, Albus refused to accept young Malfoy back to Hogwarts, and despite his father's best efforts, Draco had to finish his studies at home and did not graduate with the graduating class, although he did receive a Hogwarts diploma.

During the time of the trial, Snape and Hermione did not get a chance to discuss their situation. In fact, Hermione was so distracted and off-balance because of the case, Snape feared that she had lost all interest in him. He thought perhaps the close call with Draco had cooled her ardor for sex, and consequentially for him. It had been a terrible ordeal after all, and she probably felt terrible, terrible shame because of her actions under the lust potions. In class, she could hardly meet his eyes. When he tried to talk with her about how she was feeling, she barely answered his inquiries and he let her go, frustrated. He didn't bring up her attraction to him, simply because she was no longer evidencing it. Now he found the tables turned, and it was he lusting after Miss Granger.

When Draco was freed, Hermione felt as if there were no justice in the world at first. His hatred of her amazed the witch. She remembered everything he said when he was on top of her. Every horrible word, and every touch he gave her. She also remembered trying to seduce Professor Snape under the influence, and she was very ashamed of herself. Even though she was under the lust potion, she felt disgusted with herself that she would throw herself at him after wanting Draco the way she did. She still had feelings for the Professor, she still wanted him, but felt he couldn't possibly want her after seeing how slutty she had acted. She remembered letting Draco kiss her, and wondered if his council had been right, that she had driven the wizard to do such a desperate thing. But he told her he had always planned to defile her from the very beginning. She had been so stupid to believe he'd changed. The Professor had tried to warn her, but she didn't listen to him. When last came to last, Hermione believed the entire situation with Draco was her fault and hers alone. So she shut down.

Professor Snape saw the pain behind those amber eyes, and tried his best to get her to open up by ordinary means. But it just wasn't working, and he needed it to work. He had begun to have dreams about the witch, and woke up on more than one occasion to a rather sticky bedspread. His normal snarky attitude worsened, and his students bore the brunt of his dissatisfaction. His marking of parchments became more demanding and exacting, and he was on a record roll with the amount of house points he was taking, and the number of detentions he was assigning. There were so many complaints by the students to their heads of houses, that they descended on Albus en masse and demanded he find out what was wrong with the Potions Master and do something about it before there was no house cup competition because Slytherin house would be the only one left with points.

Albus summoned Snape to his office and offered him the usual lemon drop, which the dark wizard declined, also as usual. The Headmaster withdrew the plate of candies, set it down and placed his hands on desk, tapping the tips together as he looked at the stony-faced Snape.

"Severus, you have to ask her," the Headmaster said.

The Potions Master raised his eyebrows at this statement from out of the blue.

"Ask who, what?" he responded, scowling at Albus.

"You must ask Miss Granger if she still desires and wants you, directly, instead of waiting for her to evidence it. It is quite possible she has given up on you wanting her after you witnessed her wanton behavior with Draco, even if the lust potion inspired it. Women have a terrible habit of blaming themselves for the things men do, Severus, and can twist a situation so badly they end up believing they are entirely at fault. If this has happened to Miss Granger, she might actually believe she is no longer fit for you, or anyone for that matter, and has suppressed her need as a result," he said, looking at the Potions Master, who looked thoughtful.

Albus continued.

"You came into this as the pursued, Severus. Given your rather strait-laced attitudes concerning students of the age of consent, it took a while for it to sink in that Miss Granger could be a good thing. You also used the fact that she wanted you to justify any future intimacy. It was easier on you. But now, she is not evidencing that desire any longer, and so…not 'wooing' you. Yet you've already developed an equally strong attraction to the witch, and your ardor hasn't cooled. You are frustrated, my boy, and taking it out on the student body as a whole, when you should really be pursuing Miss Granger, and letting her know she is still desirable to you. You need to let her know it is all right to still want you. That you do not hold any anger or blame against her because of what Draco has done. She needs reassurance, Severus. I know you are not a man of great emotional displays, but if you want that witch in your bed, then you are going to have to let her know you do, in no uncertain terms. I suggest you get on this immediately before I am forced to take away your point-taking authority. Do I make myself clear, Severus? Talk to Miss Granger," Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

The Potions Master sat there. Of course, Albus was right. He was hedging and suffering for it. He needed to talk to Hermione, and he would do it today after class. If a bit of snogging was in order, he would do that too. He had to wake that fire back up.

* * *

The afternoon potions class seemed to drag by. Hermione did her assigned reading without so much as a glance at the Potions Master. When she was at her randiest for him, he caught her sneaking peeks constantly. When the class ended, and the students placed their parchments on his desk, Snape waited for Hermione to approach.

"Miss Granger?" he said, looking at the witch. Her amber eyes flicked up at him and back down to the desk. He felt a throb at her reticence.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked softly.

"I would like you to remain after class. I need to talk to you," he said, his black eyes on her face.

"Yes sir," Hermione responded without enthusiasm.

She walked back to her seat, sat down and waited for the class to clear. The Professor followed the last student out, then locked and warded the door behind him. He then walked back to the front of the room and stood, leaning against his desk, directly in front of Hermione. She sat with her eyes on the table.

"Look at me, Miss Granger!" the Potions Master said in a harsh voice. Startled, Hermione looked up at him, wide-eyed. His black eyes met hers.

"Miss Granger, do you still dream about me?" he asked her, his voice hard.

Hermione blinked at him and swallowed. She didn't answer.

Snape suddenly slammed his hand violently on the desk in front of her, making Hermione jump in her seat.

"I asked you a question, Miss Granger. Do you still dream about me?" the Potions Master demanded.

"Yes," Hermione said in a small voice. "All the time."

The Potions Master looked at her. His tight chest loosened in relief, but he didn't show it.

"Do you still feel the same about my voice? My eyes? My controlling nature?" he asked her.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered. He could see flickerings of the familiar heat in her eyes.

He leaned forward on the desk, bringing his face very close to hers.

"Do you still have the desire to make those dreams reality, Miss Granger," he asked her silkily.

"Yessss," she answered breathlessly. Her eyes were bright now. Then suddenly they clouded, and she dropped her head. Snape frowned.

"What is wrong, Miss Granger?" he asked her, softening his voice, "Tell me why you are trying to hide what you are feeling now, when you were so candid with me before. Tell me."

"You saw me with Draco," she said, "that had to disgust you," she said.

"No, it didn't disgust me, Miss Granger. I knew what he had done," he replied.

"Yes, but you warned me and I didn't listen. I got what I deserved," she whispered.

The Potions Master scowled. Albus had been right. She blamed herself. He caught her chin, hard, harder than he intended he was so outraged.

"Now you listen to me. You had no way of knowing what Draco was up to. And as for listening to me, I am not known for either my forgiveness or my compassion. You may well have been correct about Draco, and I might have been wrong. You were trying to help him redeem himself. It is not your fault the wizard is unredeemable," Snape said.

He let go of her chin.

"Come up here, Miss Granger," he growled.

Hermione stood up and walked from around the desk. She stood facing him, her lip trembling as she made a courageous effort not to cry.

Snape looked down at her.

"I dream about you too, Miss Granger," he admitted, "I dream of doing things to you in ways that a would make your porno movie seem like a child's animation. Hard. Strong. Ceaselessly. I dream about your legs trapped over my shoulders, about your nails digging into my back, and about you screaming my name at the top of your voice, Miss Granger. I wake up covered in my own ejaculate some mornings."

He moved closer to her, so his body just barely touched hers. She was trembling at his words.

"If I don't take you soon, Miss Granger…I'm going to wind up killing somebody," he breathed, " I need to know if you still want me the way you did when you wrote that list."

Hermione swayed against him, feeling his lean body, taunt, strong, barely contained. The Professor's dark eyes looked down at her as if he were already possessing her. Heat burst between her legs, and she gasped. The Professor took that for a yes, and once again lifted her up and pressed his mouth to hers hungrily, not giving her a chance to react, as he forced his tongue between her lips and tasted her thoroughly, throbbing terribly beneath his robes. Before he knew what he was doing, he had her lying on top of the desk, and his body on top of hers, working against her, grinding into her as he continued to kiss her, growling hungrily. He felt her legs wrap around him and he heaved himself against her, jerking her body as if he were actually possessing her, he broke the kiss and looked down at her face as he continued humping against her. Her amber eyes were hot, and she was moaning, moving against him as he pressed his erection between her thighs, feeling her heat through their robes.. He could take her right here, right now on his desk and shag her senseless. It would only be a matter of removing her knickers and taking out his tool and driving into her. Gods that would be heaven.

"Damn, Miss Granger," he said to her, his voice low with desire as he rocked against her soft body. He slid a pale hand down her side, around the curves of her breast and over her hip.

"Professor…do it," the witch moaned, arching against him desperately. Snape stared down at the witch beneath him, then started to hitch up his robes frantically, seeking to unfasten his pants. He had just loosened them when the knock came.

"Fuck!" he breathed, releasing Hermione and pulling her off the desk. She was flushed and continued to push against him hungrily.

"No, we have to stop," he hissed, holding her back. Anyone who looked at her would be able to tell she was aroused. Desperately, Snape cast a strong cooling spell on her. She immediately wrapped her arms around herself, teeth chattering.

"No time for a cold shower," he breathed as the knocking continued. He straightened his robes and walked to the door, pulling it open with a scowl. Albus stood on the other side. Snape ran his hand through his hair quickly.

"Headmaster," he said, stepping aside and letting the tall wizard in.

"Ah Severus," he said. Then his eyes fell on Hermione, "And Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise." His sharp blue eyes noticed her shivering. "You look rather cold, Miss Granger," he commented.

"I'm fine, Headmaster," she said, her teeth threatening to chatter some more.

The Headmaster looked doubtful. He turned to Snape.

"You really need to turn on some heat, Severus," Albus said, giving him a wink.

Snape scowled again.

"Is there a reason you stopped by here, Headmaster?" he asked.

"I was just in the area, Severus. I stopped by purely on a whim," he said, smiling. "Though I would like to talk to you about procuring some of that splendid shampoo of yours. The one that scrubs your scalp itself? Extraordinary. I was hoping you had another bottle."

Snape sighed. He didn't. That meant Albus would wait until he mixed up a batch. He looked at Hermione longingly.

"I can mix you up a bottle, sir," the Professor said, still looking at the witch, who was staring back at him. Despite her coldness, she was still panting somewhat, looking completely shaggable.

If Albus noticed the tension between the two, he acted like he didn't.

"Excellent," he smiled, "I'll just wait, if you don't mind."

Snape wanted to say he minded very much, but this was the Headmaster. You weren't allowed to mind.

Albus took the end seat in the first row, crossing his arms and looking from Snape to Hermione with a smile on his face.

"I'll be right with you, sir," Snape said, walking up to Hermione and catching her by the arm. He walked her toward the door and leaned into her.

"The Headmaster just saved you from a very rough ride, Miss Granger," he said to her with a slight growl in his voice. "We would have been moving furniture, believe me."

Hermione couldn't even speak she was so turned on by Snape.

"I can't wait anymore," she breathed.

"I won't wait any more," Snape replied, tightening his grip on her arm until she gasped. "You come to my office after curfew tonight. After nine in nothing but your robe. Understand me, Miss Granger. Nothing. But. Your. Robes. And if you aren't here by nine fifteen, make no mistake. I WILL come find you," he breathed against her ear.

Hermione shuddered at the threat in his voice.

Snape opened the door.

"Now you go get a good meal and rest up. While you can," he hissed, pushing her out the door and closing it quickly behind her.

Hermione stood there a minute, staring at the closed door. Passing Slytherins looked at her curiously. None of them messed with her much since the Draco incident. The Professor told them she was to be left alone. Hermione ignored their looks and turned, walking slowly toward the main hall, her heart pounding.

Tonight she'd learn what it meant to be the woman of Severus Snape.

* * *

Hermione had been in the Great Hall for over half an hour when Snape billowed in, taking his seat and ordering his meal. She looked up at the dais, and met his dark eyes. They were absolutely smoldering. She felt a huge gush, and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.

"Hermione, you all right?" Ron asked her, his eyebrows furrowed.

Hermione tried to compose herself. Her knickers were absolutely soaked. Snape was smirking at her knowingly.

"Yeah, Ron. I'm fine," she replied, biting into a sweet roll.

"I noticed Snape giving you the evil eye," Ron said, leaning close as if the Professor might hear him. "He's a horrible old bird, isn't he? It would give me the creeping fugwugs if he looked at me like that." Ron shuddered.

Hermione almost laughed

"I don't think he'd ever look at you like that, Ron," she said, smiling obliquely.

"Well, still. It seems like he's been watching you a lot since he came into the Great Hall," Ron said. "I don't like it. He looks like he's up to something."

Ron had become extremely protective of Hermione since the Draco incident. He would swell up protectively if he saw any male eye turned toward the Gryffindor witch.

"Oy! Whatcha looking at?" he'd growl, taking Hermione's arm and dragging her away.

At first, Hermione thought it sweet, but it soon became annoying. She asked Harry to talk to him, which he did to avoid having to witness another big row between them. Ron still had all the sensitivity of a rock. The first thing he would do is bring up Draco if he and Hermione got into it again.

Harry did get him to tone it down a bit, but Ron was still on point when it came to Hermione.

Hermione could hardly eat, feeling Snape's eyes on her body, and imagining what he was thinking. He had almost taken her in his classroom. He must have lost control completely to let go like that. What would he be like tonight? Hermione had a feeling there wouldn't be much kissing and caressing leading up to the big moment. The Professor didn't seem as if he would wait very long to take her. She didn't want him to. But gods, he was so hot and demanding.

Snape had her on his desk before she knew what was happening, and he felt so good moving against her body, his tongue in her mouth and his member pressing between her thighs so hard it was almost painful. If the Headmaster hadn't come when he did she would have certainly lost her virginity on top of the class' latest assignments, which were scattered under her.

"Hermione? Are you all right? Your eyes look all glowy and weird," Ron said, staring at her. Poor Ron. He had no clue about women at all. Hermione scowled at him.

"Ron, just stop watching me and eat, please," Hermione said, irritated.

"Just wanted to make sure you aren't sick. You're looking kind of flushed too," he stated, shoveling some peas in his mouth and looking at her intently.

Hermione turned to Harry, who was quietly eating a ham sandwich. He had heard everything the two had said, and glanced up at Snape, who really was looking at Hermione with a glint in his eyes. But Snape's eyes glinted at everybody eventually. He wasn't as suspicious as Ron was. Hermione looked at him, pleadingly. Harry knew what to do.

"Hey Ron, who do you like in the upcoming match between the Kenmare Kestrels and the Tutshill Tornados?" Harry asked across Hermione.

"The Kestrels are going to stomp the Tornados," Ron replied, getting up, "shove over Hermione. Men are talking Quidditch," he said, squeezing in next to Harry, pushing the witch over unceremoniously.

Hermione mouthed, "Thanks," to Harry, who gave her a small grin as Ron launched into the whys and wherefores of just how the Tornados were going to have the snuff kicked out of them.

Hermione glanced back up at the head table. Snape was still looking at her. He licked his lips, his black eyes seeming to see right inside her. She felt another gush. She was definitely going to have to shower when she left the Great Hall. Gods, she couldn't wait for tonight.

Snape got an erection the moment his eyes fell on Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table. Knowing in a few hours he would have the witch under him was making him extremely randy, and he had been in a state of perpetual arousal ever since she'd left his class. She'd better be on time tonight, or he really would go and get her. He wasn't waiting another night. He was tired of dream-induced releases. He wanted to let go inside her body. He watched as the Gryffindor witch said good-bye to her friends and rose from the table, giving him a rather hot-eyed look before turning and exiting the hall. He'd bet his last potion that the young witch's knickers were soaked to dripping. He felt a sudden urge to follow her and find out, but steeled himself. Tonight. He just had to wait until tonight. He'd find out everything about her.

* * *

The Professor returned to his rooms and set about preparing for his night with Miss Granger. He put fresh sheets on the bed, and added more pillows. He might need them to prop up parts of her body. He then had a house elf bring him some bottled water and a bowl of never-melting ice to keep the water cold. He then went to his potions storeroom and got a few healing items. He had a feeling Miss Granger was going to need them before the night was over. He also selected a strong contraceptive elixir. He planned to fill her with so much seed, she'd conceive quadruplets if she wasn't protected. He thought about music, then decided against it. The sound of her cries of passion would be music enough for him. This night was not based on romance, but on animal attraction on both their parts. No need to muck it up with useless extras.

He wondered if Miss Granger would want to continue with him after tonight. He would do his best to make her want to…but still would possess her as if this were to be his only time. Which meant she had a good, hard ride coming. He only hoped her need matched his own. It certainly seemed to this afternoon. When he thought about it afterwards, he was glad Albus showed up when he did. It would have been satisfying to slake his need for her on his desk, but then he would have had to wait hours or days to have her again. Tonight, in the privacy of his rooms, he could take her over and over again. He throbbed at the thought of it.

He surveyed his bedroom to see if he forgot anything. He did. He transfigured a piece of parchment into a large mirror, and placed it against the wall on the far side of his bed. He liked mirrors, and thought Miss Granger would like to see her fantasy as it happened, if she were able to focus that is. There was a good chance she wouldn't be. The Professor stripped down, walked into his bathroom and took a shower. He bathed himself thoroughly, wanting to be squeaky clean all over. He doubted that there would be much exploration of bodies tonight, but one never knew. He finished showering and applied a deodorizing spell, but no scent. He only wanted to smell pure sex and sweat. As far as he was concerned, nothing could possibly smell better. He pulled on a pair of silk boxers and buttoned his robes over it. He then walked to his study and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey. He sat down in the armchair facing the fireplace and stared into the flames, his mind focused on the innocent beauty that would soon be his. He glanced at the clock. Time was kind and had flown by. It was now eight-thirty.

* * *

Hermione had showered, and now was sitting on the side of her bed, trying to deal with the butterflies in her stomach and the ache between her legs that intensified every time she thought of the Potions Master, waiting for her in his rooms. Did he feel as much anticipation as she did? She looked at the clock. It was a quarter to nine. She took a deep breath and stood up. The fabric of her robes swished against her naked flesh underneath. Her nipples hardened at the contact. She felt as if her entire body was just a mass of nerve endings, waiting for the electric touch of Severus Snape to race through it. She exited her room and walked down to the common room. She froze. Ron and Harry were there, playing a game of wizard's chess. She would never be able to slip by them. And Ron was in perpetual watchdog mode. If she tried to leave the common room so close to curfew, he would demand to know where she was going this time of night. She sat on the stairs, unobserved and watched them play. It was a slow game. Harry had gotten better over time and they thought each move out carefully. She looked at the common room clock. It was ten after nine now. Professor Snape had to be wondering where she was.

* * *

Snape was pacing his study now. Miss Granger was usually punctual. Something must have happened to hold her up. His black eyes watched the clock as the minute hand moved toward the fifteen-minute mark. When it struck he stood up and marched through the study door, through his office and out into the dungeon corridor. With a harsh look on his face, Snape cast a disillusionment spell on himself, and strode through Hogwarts, a determined look on his face. He was going to get Miss Granger, if he had to go into Gryffindor tower itself to retrieve her.

He walked quickly into the main hall and up the main stairwell. He noticed two students snogging behind a statue, but didn't have time for them now. He rode the stairwells to the corridor that led to the portrait which hid the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. He strode through the corridor and stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Open up," he hissed.

The Fat Lady started.

"Who's there?" she asked.

"The Head of Slytherin House. Now open up," Snape said irritatedly.

"How do I know it's the Head of Slytherin house," the portrait challenged him.

"Because last time I was here I threatened to strip you with a turpentine spell," Snape hissed, "And I can still do it."

The Fat Lady blanched and the portrait swung open. Snape stepped through and walked the passageway, and emerged in the common room. The first thing he saw was Potter and Weasley, playing a game of chess. The second thing he saw was Hermione, sitting on the top of the stairs with her chin on her hand, watching them. He knew what happened immediately. She couldn't get past them without them questioning her. She couldn't very well tell them she was going to shag the Potions Professor. Snape walked by the young wizards toward the stairs, then up them. They didn't turn into a slide because, although he was male, he was a staff member. He could enter the girl's dormitory.

Hermione was seated on the stairs, waiting for Ron and Harry to finish and retire, when she felt strong arms wrap around her possessively. She almost screamed, but a hand clamped over her mouth.

"I told you I'd come for you," the disillusioned Potions Master purred. In a moment, Hermione was also disillusioned.

"Come with me, Miss Granger," Snape said in a low growl, not releasing the witch but holding her tight against him as they made their way down the stairs, past the boys and out of the common room. Ron looked up, then looked around suspiciously.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked him, looking up from the game.

Ron's brow furrowed.

"I don't know. I just got the feeling we weren't alone," he said, still looking around, "like somebody walked past us."

Harry scowled at him.

"If this is a new way for you to try and break my concentration, Ron, it's not going to work. Now come on, it's your move."

Ron looked around the common room once more, then returned to the game. But he still had a feeling he had missed something. Something important.

* * *

Hermione felt strange with the Professor's arm encircled tightly around her waist, and feeling his body pressed against hers, but not being able to see him. Where their bodies contacted however, she felt heat was passing between them. He hurried her along, almost dragging her as they walked down the corridor leading to the stairs. She could hear his breathing. It was ragged, like he could hardly draw a breath.

"Are you all right, Professor," she asked him as he pulled her along.

"I will be," he growled, "as soon as I get you to my rooms, Miss Granger." His arm tightened around her possessively.

Hermione felt a pulse of anticipation at his words.

Soon they were in the main hall and turning down the dungeons corridor. Hermione was feeling a little winded, they were moving so fast. Snape was in full stride, and his legs were a lot longer than hers.

"Professor, I'm tired," she said to the slight shimmering beside her.

They stopped. Suddenly she was swung up into the Professor's arms, and he started striding again.

"I can't wait for you, Miss Granger," he said.

Hermione didn't know if he meant wait for her to catch up to him in the corridor, or wait for her to be ready to give herself to him. She suspected both. They arrived at the door to the Potions office. It swung open and Snape carried her through. The door shut and he whispered a ward over it, then proceeded to the wall that opened to his study. The wall slid up and they stepped through that also. It slid down and the Professor whispered a ward and a silencing spell, then turned and strode with the witch through his study and into his bedroom. He put her down and removed the disillusionment spell.

They stood there, looking at each other. Hermione was trembling at the predatory look in the Potions Master's eyes as they swept over her. He licked his lips.

"Miss Granger…" he breathed, his black eyes glittering. He was trying to find the right words to say to her.

Hermione put her hand to his lips gently.

"We've talked enough, Professor," she said softly, her amber eyes glowing with desire. The Professor searched her face for a moment and saw nothing but surrender.

Then he was on her.

Somewhere in Snape's brain, a small voice was shouting, "she's only eighteen, she doesn't know, be gentle!"

Unfortunately, that voice was drowned out by the larger voice of his sex-starved body that said, "a willing woman! get her!" and it was the second voice he heeded as he roughly latched on to Hermione, all hungry mouth and thirsting hands. He pulled her to him and lifted her, crushing her soft body to his, every curve registering against his lean body as his lips crashed against hers like thunder. He plundered her mouth, suckling her tongue, exploring her heat, aware of the other, deeper, tighter heat that awaited him, aware of the sounds of desire the witch was making as he moved her up and down against his body. He turned with Hermione and walked forward, dropping to the bed, falling with her, landing on her and grinding down against her, a roaring in his brain as he slid against her, digging his toes into the stone floor and pushing rhythmically, his swollen member rubbing against her crotch, as she moaned and gasped.

He stopped humping the witch and slid down a bit, attacking the buttons of her robes as if they were the enemy, opening them swiftly and parting the fabric, revealing her beautiful body, her full breasts, flat belly and the perfect bush of her sex. His black eyes were locked to her body, his jaw set with lust, as he parted her robes completely and groaned before his mouth and hands took over again, starting at Hermione's throat and sliding down her body, his fingers and lips and tongue dancing across her skin, feeling and tasting her breasts and belly, spreading fire as the witch arched and whispered unintelligible words of pleasure, her hips thrusting up as the Potions Master bent over her as if kneeling in prayer, both pale hands palming and encircling her breasts, as his mouth drifted through the patch of soft hair covering her sex. He drew his hands down to her thighs, growling as he pressed his nose against her and inhaled, salivating as the scent of her filled his nostrils. He thrust her legs up and with one hand parted her labia, his black eyes drinking in the inviting pink softness of her inner flesh.

The hymen was there, partially broken and from some activity the witch had engaged in, but still stretched thinly over the entryway to her body. Her clit stood hard and peaked, glistening with her arousal, and the Professor flicked his tongue over the sensitized flesh and Hermione screamed and buckled, making him press his lips to her and suckle her hungrily, running his tongue up and down, tasting her honey as he carefully pressed a long finger past her hymen, not wanting to tear it any further, and slipping it into her warmth knuckle deep, groaning as her softness wrapped around his digit. He thrust into her gently, and she tried to bear down on him, rolling her hips instinctively. He watched her body move, excited by her rotations, he withdrew his finger, licked it clean, then carefully pressed the tip of his tongue inside her, collecting her juices, lapping gently, aware that the volume of her cries as well as her movements were increasing. He couldn't take it any longer, she was too hot, too ready and his tool was thrumming with the need to get inside her and he launched himself back over her body, leaning to the side, his pale fingers flying down the front of his robes as the witch tried to kiss his face, or whatever she could reach.

His black eyes were locked to her face, which was contorted with need, her amber eyes blazing with the fire burning inside her. Hermione's core was an aching, throbbing, hungry emptiness, and the press of Snape's body so close but not close enough was driving her wild, and she moved against him wantonly, whispering to him to hurry and put himself inside her, and she thought the wizard would actually breathe fire the way his black eyes smoldered down at her. Snape finally got his robes open and stood up, removing them, looking down on the writhing witch. He pulled her to her feet roughly and yanked the robes off her arms, letting them fall to the floor, and was about to push her back on the bed when it registered he hadn't yet given her the contraceptive.

He cursed and turned to the end table, picked up the bottle and thrust it at her, so totally taken over by his need he could only grunt, "Drink!" at the witch. Hermione opened the bottle and drank it down, handing it to the wizard who flung it across the room uncaringly. It shattered as he pushed her back down on the bed, his eyes locked to her thighs and the prize between them. He licked his lips and lowered his silk boxers, his engorged member springing out jauntily as if to say "Surprise!". He was so aroused it curved, pointing towards the ceiling, the thick head leaking fluid. He looked at Hermione for her reaction. The witch looked at his large organ with wide amber eyes full of hunger, looking as if she wanted to devour it. She slid herself into the bed fully, resting her head on the pillows, spreading her legs in invitation and reaching out for him, both arms extended. Snape growled and flung himself into the bed, landing on her hard, crushing his mouth to hers demandingly, rubbing his erection into her wetness. She was so hot down there.

He lifted his hips slightly, reached down between their bodies and positioned himself against her, his black eyes liquid as he watched her reaction to his large head pressing between her thighs. Her mouth fell open as she felt him, and she pushed her hips up for more contact.

"Do me, Professor. Do me now, please," she whimpered up at him, her eyes slitted like a cat's with need.

Snape pushed against her lightly at first, teasing her, pressing against the small patch of skin that protected her virtue. Then his expression went hard as he looked at her, as if to say, "This is it, Miss Granger" Snape pulled back and thrust into the witch hard, his organ tearing through her hymen and burying itself inside her. Hermione screamed and arched up against him as the pain hit her. Snape wrapped his arms around her and held still.

"I've got you," he breathed, "hold on to me."

Sobbing, Hermione wrapped her arms around Snape's waist as the Potions Master drove into her powerfully, his mouth going slack as he was caressed by her tight, hot walls, which encased him so securely, it was like her body was sucking him. He plunged deep into the crying witch, his movements becoming stronger and harder as he slid over her body, watching her face, licking at her tears, groaning his pleasure as he took her. Gods, she was so tight, so delicious. He needed to get deeper. He stopped, and Hermione cried out, pulling at him. It was just beginning to get good. Snape's nostrils flared he pulled her legs over his shoulders and raised his body over hers. Looking down at the witch, he said. "Now you get all of me," and slammed into her brutally, making her shriek with pleasure and pain. He hit her again, and she buckled off the bed, her eyes wide with surprise. Snape started taking her slow, claiming every delicious inch of her, giving her long, hard strokes, burying himself into her up to the hilt, his nads pressing against her cheeks, holding it, then pulling out almost completely before slamming into her again, and holding it, rolling his pelvis. Then he increasing the speed of his penetration, shifting his hips and thrusting into the witch at different angles, trying to leave no part of her untouched as he stroked and plunged inside her, reveling in her surrender, her sweet voice crying out when he hit bottom and drove past it hungrily. He wanted her to feel his ache, his power, his need and his strength. He wanted her to know he could reach deep into her, and bring her the satisfaction she craved. So he stroked her harder and harder, tearing through the sheathe of her body in abandon, his pale hips blurring with the ardor of his penetration. She wanted to be shagged by him, he was going to make sure when he finished, she knew she had been claimed, and claimed well.

From the moment Snape thrust inside her, and her body wrapped around him, Hermione was his completely. He felt better than she even dreamed, strong, forceful, demanding as he buried his hardness inside her, feeding her need to be possessed, beating into the ache that throbbed inside her, soothing her, yet taking her to some other aching, needing place. His thrusts were getting harder and deeper, and the room around her was fading, all she could see and feel was his pale, muscled body jerking over her, those black eyes blazing down into hers, silently saying "give me everything." And she tried to talk to him, to tell him how good he felt inside her, but her words came out jumbled, senseless as he plowed into her, but his eyes, his eyes looked like he knew.

Snape dropped and rolled to the side, turning Hermione with him, her legs still on his shoulders, so they lay facing each other, and he let go, pulling her buttocks back and forth against him, pistoning into her body, grunting, hissing, moaning and groaning with abandon as her tightness slid over him wetly, the sounds of him plunging through her juices exciting him even more. Hermione bounced against him, her mouth open against the sensation as he thrust his member in and out of her so quickly, and deeply it became one just a blur of pleasure inside her. Watching him take her was even more exciting, she had never seen the Professor look like this, his face contorting with delight and lust as he drove his glistening tool into her body over and over, and she felt a burst of joy that it was she who was making him feel like this, then suddenly something started growing in her, something so good she started calling out to him, telling him she was feeling something she never felt before, and his eyes grew even hotter and he rode her even harder, staring at her as he slammed violently inside her, making her scream out even as the sweetness bubbling up threatened to consume her, and she strained against him, feeling herself tightening to a hard ball of intense pleasure, distantly hearing the Professor groaning loudly, before she exploded, her entire being turning liquid, flowing and rolling and pulsing over the wizard driving into her, his silky voice encouraging her softly even as his body beat into hers brutally, and then, there was nothing but shuddering bliss…Hermione could hear herself as if from a great distance, and the Professor's voice cracking as he pulled back and slammed into her, pulling her tight to his hard body, crushing her as he filled her with a great, pulsing heat, whispering obscenities as he jerked against her, also shuddering, the flooding of her body continuing for a long time before his throbbing inside her eased, then ceased, and he let out a long, satisfied groan, locking his lips to hers and tasting her deeply, as she spun back down to rest in his arms.

The Professor held Hermione's quaking body against him, still embedded in her wonderful softness, feeling himself deflating inside her warm, young body as he caught his breath. Possessing her had been every bit as good as he knew it would be, and satisfaction softened his features. The witch was strong, she could take him. Not once had she tried to get away, not that she could have…he wouldn't have released his hold on her for the gods themselves. He had ridden her hard her first time out, and his black eyes flicked over her, but he couldn't see her face for the tangle of hair that had fallen across it. He brushed the damp locks away, and her amber eyes looked into his softly, and she smiled at him. Yes, she was all right.

"Thank you, Professor," she breathed, letting her eyes fall shut.

Thank you? Oh no, Miss Granger. No thanks yet.

"Miss Granger, it is proper to thank someone at the end of what ever activity you are engaged in. This is not yet the end," Snape purred, his eyes still full of lust.

"Not the end?" she asked him, lifting her lashes slightly so she could look at him. She felt heavy and exhausted as well as sore.

"Hardly. This is only intermission," Snape said, withdrawing from her wetly, moving back a bit and allowing her to lower her legs. His eyes swept over her body, which was shining with perspiration. He felt a tiny pulse in his loins.

"I have a feeling it will be a very short intermission," he added, smirking at her.

Snape looked at Hermione.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, his black eyes lowering themselves toward her thighs.

"Sore. And kind of thirsty," she replied, shifting a little.

"I can take care of that," Snape said. He rolled out of the bed. Hermione let out a small gasp as he walked over to the dresser to retrieve a bottle of water. Snape heard her and turned around.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he asked her, concern on his face.

"Your…your back, Professor," she said in a low voice, her eyes wide.

The Professor picked up a bottle of water and walked back towards the bed, picking up a vial of healing potion from the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the mattress. Hermione could clearly see the raised pattern of scars that criss-crossed his back.

"Yes. Voldemort's gift to me for years of service," Snape said, handing her the healing potion, "drink this down. It will ease your soreness."

He watched as the witch opened the vial and consumed its contents, making a slight face at the taste.

"Nasty," she said, grimacing at him.

"Strong," he replied, "my own special brew. It works quicker than the healing potions you get from Poppy. I developed it while serving the Dark Lord to ease my own pains and wounds."

He handed her the bottle of water. Hermione opened it and drank thirstily, downing half the bottle. She sighed and recapped it, handing it to the Professor. He set it on the nightstand and climbed back into the bed, stretching out on his back, his face turned toward the witch.

"Was I what you wanted me to be?" he asked her.

"You were more," she answered him, her eyes heating up. "You are so…so different like this. You aren't…well…cold and unfeeling."

"What man can be unfeeling when he's inside the body of a beautiful, passionate woman?" Snape replied, "Now is not the time for me to exercise restraint, Miss Granger. I relinquish my personal control during sex because that is the only way to fully enjoy the experience. To enjoy the gift you're giving me."

"So you enjoyed me?" Hermione whispered, "Even though I don't know what pleases you yet?" Snape's eyes glittered.

"Enjoyed you?" he said, moving slightly closer. "You saw me. You felt me, how I moved inside you, how I couldn't stop myself. Can you have any doubt, Miss Granger?" he said silkily. He traced her mouth with a long pale finger. "You bring me great pleasure, and if you still have doubts, I'll soon allay them."

Hermione's eyes drifted down the Professor's long lean body. The Professor watched her eyes move across him. They were curious. He figured it was the first time she had ever seen a naked man up close. He had engaged her, but he was so hot, so ready for her he hadn't given her time to familiarize herself with his body. Snape could tell she wanted to touch him, but was hesitant. She didn't realize that as far as he was concerned, after what she gave him, she could do anything she wanted to him. He took her hand and placed it on his chest.

"You can touch me, Miss Granger. I don't bite…hard," he purred, moving her hand over the muscles of his chest slowly, until she began to move it herself. Hermione edged closer to him, her eyes locked to his pale skin. His chest was hairless and sculpted, warm beneath her palm. She could feel the thudding of his heart and held her hand over it, looking at him for a moment, then returning her eyes to his body. She slid her hand lower, marveling over the hardness of his belly, and the tight ridges beneath her fingertips. Snape inhaled sharply as her soft hand explored him, his black eyes meeting her amber ones as she moved it lower, into the dark curls of his pubic hair, pulling it gently. Snape threw his head back and sighed brokenly as she touched his member lightly, and it swelled beneath her hand. Snape groaned.

Encouraged, Hermione wrapped her hand around his organ, felt it growing strong and hard in her hand, the blood pumping through its length as if it had its own heart nestled inside. She began to caress it, working her hand up and down the thick shaft, listening to the wizard's breath catch. Snape whispered "Scourgify" and cleansed his body for her, then cast the spell on her as well. He was fully erect now, watching her hand slide over his tool, biting his lip and wanting more than her hand on him. Hermione noticed his hungry look and crawled down the bed.

"In that movie, Professor," she breathed, looking at his throbbing organ, "The women did things to the men…"

"What kind of things, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione looked at Snape but didn't answer. Instead she climbed on top of him and straddled him, sliding her body down over his calves until her thighs rested on his shins, and her face was over his erection. She held it up, and looked up at him, her amber eyes shining. Snape quickly reached up and pulled several pillows under his head and shoulders, propping himself up so he could clearly see the witch.

"Things like this," she whispered, lowering her head and wrapping her lips around him, her hair falling over her shoulders and resting softly against his thighs. Snape groaned as he felt her heat close over him, and bucked his hips slightly at the sight of the witch, looking at him, his organ between her soft lips. He had never seen anything so erotic. She slowly pulled him out, dragging her lips over him, then started planting soft, sucking kisses around his head and up and down his shaft. It felt amazing, and looked so erotic as he watched her kissing his member tenderly. Where had she learned to do that? There wasn't much kissing in pornos of any part of the body. Then she slipped her mouth over him again, and he didn't care where she learned it from that point on. He brought his hand to the back of her head gently, and pushed her down so she took him in deeper, then pulled her hair gently to make her rise, then pushed her back down. She understood and began to bob on her own. The Professor hissed as her lips and tongue caressed him. She stopped.

"Am I doing it right, Professor," she asked him.

"Yes, but you need to suck too, Miss Granger," he breathed. She immediately began to do it.

"Gods, yes!" he gasped, throwing his head back in pleasure as Hermione laved him, experimenting with her head movements, turning this way and that with him in her mouth, judging her successes by his gasps, hisses and curses. She leaned back so he could see himself moving in and out of her mouth clearly, realizing he liked to watch her…then she glanced at herself in the mirror, sitting on his legs, bent over him and felt a gush at seeing herself doing this to her untouchable Professor, whose head was thrown back in delight. She started moving faster, watching herself in the mirror and watching him lean his head forward, mouth slack as her mouth flew back and forth over him. He started groaning louder and his pale hands locked into her hair and began guiding her, pushing into her mouth deeper as he bucked his hips.

"Yes, Miss Granger, damn," he gasped, the tendons in his neck tightening as pleasure rushed up and down his shaft, and his scrotum started tightening. Gods, he didn't know if she were ready for this.

"You'd better pull away, Miss Granger," he groaned, not wanting her to pull away at all, but giving her the option, "I'm about to climax and I don't know if you'll like the taste of it."

But Hermione could hear the need in the Professor's voice and didn't stop as his body began to tense up and tremble. She wanted to know what it was like to have him release in her mouth. She sucked him hard and cupped him with her soft warm hand, kneading them lightly, feeling them contract in her palm. Suddenly they drew up tight and the Professor let out a cry, then her mouth was full of hotness, the Professor's hands reflexively pulling her down on him as he came, grunting, jerking in her mouth. She swallowed and swallowed. His release tasted sharp, a tiny bit like aspirin, but not terrible She sucked him until the pulsing stopped, his hands relaxed and he began to grow soft in her mouth. She stretched out on him then, her breasts resting on his loins, her head resting on his chest, listening to his racing heart slow, his chest rising and falling as he stroked her hair absently.

"You didn't have to do that," he said softly, his breath still hitching.

"I wanted to. I wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel," she whispered back, "I did didn't I?"

He looked down at her, an odd expression in his dark eyes, as if he couldn't believe she was asking him that after such an amazing performance on her part. But then again, this was all new to her. She needed reassurance. She had no idea of the power she had over him right now.

"Yes, yes you made me feel very good. Very good indeed…but I'm afraid we have another intermission now," he breathed down at her.

"That's all right," Hermione said, feeling rather full and sleepy, "I can wait, Professor."

Her eyes drifted shut and in a couple of minutes she was asleep on top of him.

"You can rest a little while, Miss Granger, but not too long," he whispered, his pale fingers still playing in her hair.

* * *

Snape let Hermione sleep for about two hours. While she slept, he watched her, his organ swelling with the memory of their recent bout of sex. He was tempted several times to wake her by entering her, but decided it was too soon to be that demanding or familiar with the witch. If she agreed to continue this relationship, there would be plenty of opportunities to rouse her with a good stiff dick. Snape found he liked the idea of having Miss Granger for a lover. She was curious, passionate and not near as talkative in bed as she was in class. And if she did start to talk too much he could easily give her mouth other things to do.

She had given him one hell of a blowjob, and by the way she reacted to seeing her own lips wrapped around him in the mirror, she had enjoyed doing it. He had no idea that what turned Hermione on the most during this whole affair was his reaction to her. She was getting off on his vocal and physical expressiveness. His obvious hunger and desire for her. The intense pleasure he took in her body.

As long as Hermione had known the Professor he was always controlled and disciplined, cold and seeming to have no human feelings to speak of. She had always felt she could never please the wizard as his student in his classroom, and it was heady to know that she pleased him very much as a woman in his bed. Snape was a different man when it came to sex, and she knew this was a side of him few knew about She felt very special to know this part of the dark wizard

Snape figured it was time to wake the sleeping witch, but first went into the study and summoned a house elf to bring some food down the kitchens. If the elf was shocked to see the Potions Master in his all-together, it didn't react. It winked out, returned several minutes later, handed him the platter of food with a low bow and winked out again. No doubt his nakedness was the talk of the kitchens.

Snape looked at the platter. Tiny, sweet chicken wings, rolled cold cuts with cheese and bread cut into bite-sized pieces. Good, nothing to weigh her down. He walked back into the bedroom, set the food down on his night table then sat on the bed, looking down at the sleeping witch. He gently shook Hermione's shoulder.

"Miss Granger, wake up," he said softly, shaking the witch.

Hermione turned on to her back and stretched. Snape's nostrils flared as she rolled luxuriously in his bed, her nude body stretching, as she groaned, her hair flung wildly around her head. It took an effort not to roll back in the bed and mount her. He was aching. Her amber eyes opened and looked up at him, softening but heating up instantly. She stretched her arms out toward him.

"More, Professor" she said, sleep still in her voice, making it low and throaty.

Gods, she was a hot one, wasn't she? She was hardly awake and she wanted him pounding inside her again. A growl rose from the back of Snape's throat as he looked down at the lusty, young witch.

"In a few minutes, Miss Granger," he said with an effort, "Right now I want you to eat something."

"Food?" Hermione asked, sitting up in the bed instantly. She was famished.

"Yes. Just some chicken, cold cuts and bread," he replied as she slid to the end of the bed, stood up and walked over to the platter. His black eyes raked across her body, over her full breasts and tight round bottom. He growled again as she grabbed a chicken wing and made short work of it. He watched her eat, how her lips moved over the food, how she sucked her fingers and licked her lips as she ate hungrily, without any shyness at being so starved or so greedy. Finally she sucked her fingertips one last time and sighed, sated.

She started to walk back to the bed when Snape stood up, his eyes glittering. Watching her bend over the platter of food had sparked his imagination. He walked up to her, and stopped, his body an inch from hers. His organ bounced against her belly and she gasped, looking down at it for a moment, and looking back up at him, a pool of he

at growing in her lower belly.

"Well, Miss Granger, it's time for the second of the two F's," Snape said silkily..

"The two F's?" she repeated, her brow wrinkled, "What's the two F's?"

"I've Fed you," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders gently. Then he spun her roughly and walked her toward the bedpost quickly.

"Now I Fuck you," he growled, "bend over and grab the bedpost, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt a gush wet her thighs as she obediently bent over and grasped the bedpost. Snape looked as her bum, then ran his hands over her shoulders, down her back and up again several times, enjoying the softness of her flesh, before he caressed her hip, cocking his head. Suddenly he lightly slapped her buttock and Hermione gasped as he watched the globe jiggle, his black eyes alight with lust.

"Such a soft bottom," he breathed as he stepped into her, rubbing his erection between her cheeks slowly. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Professor," she gasped, "You're not going to…"

"No, Miss Granger, I'm not going to take you anally, tempting as it is. I don't think you are ready for that yet. Maybe one day you will let me indulge myself in such a way…" he purred, grinding against her, his pale hands grasping her waist.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She had heard anal sex hurt, and the Professor had a very big tool. She didn't think she could take him that way. But it was clear he wanted to do it, just not tonight. She swallowed. She would handle that situation when it arose…but now she wanted him inside her, and she moaned at the feeling of his hardness rubbing back and forth between her cheeks.

"Professor," she moaned, desire evident in her voice.

Snape stopped sliding against her, and pulled his hips back a bit so he could position himself to enter her…she was hot and dripping wet.

"My rubbing against you turned you on, didn't it Miss Granger? You are soaked," he breathed, rubbing his head back and forth in her wetness, making her cry out with need.

Suddenly he thrust deep inside her, filling her with his hot, pulsing shaft and hitting bottom, causing her back to arch up at the sweet ache. He groaned as he buried himself in her wet, welcoming body again, and began to stroke her slowly, loving the friction of his hard flesh rubbing against her velveteen walls.

"Yessssss," he hissed, clutching her waist and pulling her into him as he thrust inside her. "How does this feel, Miss Granger?" he growled at the moaning witch.

"Sooo goood," she sighed in pleasure.

"Look at us," he hissed, "in the mirror."

Her eyes half-lidded with pleasure, Hermione turned her head and saw herself, bent over, clutching the post with both hands, and the Professor behind her, his pale hands holding her waist firmly, his dark hair a curtain around his face as he looked down at her buttocks, thrusting into her. Hermione's body jerked back and forth as he pulled her over him, her breasts swinging rhythmically with each penetration. She could see him poling in and out of her, the thick shaft appearing and disappearing behind the curve of her hips.

"Oh gods that's so sexy!" she moaned, watching the pale body of the Professor moving against her. His head turned and his black eyes locked to hers in the mirror.

"Beautiful," he said softly as he looked at her. Then he slammed into her and held still as he watched her scream, her head dropping, panting at the sudden depth and ache.

"Can you take it?" he asked, pulling back and ramming into her again, making her cry out and buckle. "Tell me, Miss Granger, because this is how I'm about to give it to you if you don't tell me otherwise."

He felt much stronger and deeper than the first time. But even though it hurt, there was something good underneath it, something Hermione wanted.

"I can take it," she whispered back at him, watching him through the mirror, "but wait…let me adjust myself."

Snape ceased stroking into her as she moved closer to the bedpost, clutching it between her breasts, and actually wrapping both arms around it and leaning her face alongside it.

Snape watched her through the mirror. Her brow furrowed slightly in anticipation of his ardor. He throbbed at the expression on her face.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?" he breathed, aching to take this beautiful witch hard.

"Yes," she said in a low, low whisper.

He caressed her back gently for a moment until he saw her relax through the mirror, then he slammed into her, growling as she cried out, and started riding her brutally, slamming repeatedly into her wetness, yanking her toward him with each deep thrust, his pelvis slapping loudly against her jiggling buttocks, increasing his speed, his head thrown back, his mouth open and eyes closed in pleasure as he pummeled her sweet softness as if it were some castle wall he was laying siege to with a battering ram. It felt so good to let himself go and tear into the young screaming witch's body with abandon, bathed in her juices, her sweet wet walls hot and writhing around him, her soft buttocks cushioning his stroke, her body shuddering as he hit bottom and strained into her, never saying stop or no, just his title over and over. He was glad he decided to give in to her, she was beautiful and willing and soft and….

Snape lost himself in the pleasure of Hermione's body, pistoning into her mercilessly, loving her cries of passion as she received him, pressing back against him, giving him all the access he desired to her delicious body, the caress of her sleeve driving him mad with lust and hunger, the more she gave him the more he wanted, the more he had to have. He pressed down on her lower back, forcing her bottom higher as he burrowed into her, grunting, growling, cursing and gasping as he took every inch of her, claiming her thoroughly, roughly, completely as he rode her. He leaned his chest against her back and rammed himself inside her to the hilt and began to rotate his pelvis, eliciting more screams of pleasure, digging deep for the gem hidden inside her, and reaching it as she let out a ragged cry and came, her body clamping down, and her release pouring over him as she shuddered around him, and he started taking her again, hard as he could, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her from collapsing, lifting her with his stroke to the balls of her feet as he worked toward his own release, tightening as he buried himself in her clamping, erupting sleeve repeatedly, thrusting wildly until he came with his own ragged shout, ramming himself into Hermione to the hilt as pleasure tore through his body and rocketed out of him in a strong, pulsing gush, his release pooling inside the shuddering, gasping witch and washing back over him in a flood of heat. He held Hermione tight against him, one arm encircling her waist, one hand fisted in her hair, his lips pressed to her shoulder, as he spooned around her, his pelvis flush to her buttocks as he emptied inside her, unable to let her go, unable to move at all as he pulsated, glued to her body by bliss.

After several minutes, Snape was able to loosen his grasp on the witch, and felt her slowly sliding down the bedpost. He grabbed her again before she hit the floor and with an effort swung both their exhausted bodies around so they landed on the bed. Hermione was still trembling and he pulled her body closer to his, feeling protective, trying to calm her with his presence.

"You are fantastic," he breathed in her ear, "I don't want this to stop, Miss Granger. Having tasted you, I am going to constantly crave you."

She moaned and slid closer to him, her tremors easing. The Professor lay there a while, listening to her breathing ease, then roused himself, scrambling up into the bed and pulling her up to the pillows. She was limp as a rag doll. He spooned around the witch, kissed her temple, closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.

* * *

Professor Snape's consciousness slowly returned, and he reached out a long, arm, groping for the soft, warm body he had fallen asleep curled around. He found nothing. Opening his eyes he found his bed was empty. Miss Granger must have left while he slept. He was disappointed. Why would she leave without letting him know? Was she through with him, her curiosity and lust sated? He hoped not. He had meant what he told her, that he wanted them to continue. She had been too passionate, too sweet, too willing. He had fallen to her the moment she let him inside her body. Having had her, he refused to let her go…if she tried, he would take her by force if he had to. Kidnap her in the dead of night and bring her to his rooms and shag her senseless. His nostrils flared at the thought of her trying to deny him after this. His black eyes turned toward the night table, where the remains of her meal rested. His eyes narrowed. There was a piece of folded parchment there. He scooted over in the bed and reached for it, catching it in the tips of his fingers. He opened it, and scanned its contents, then smiled.

_Dear Professor,_

_After much consideration, I have decided that my list must be altered in order to remain true to my description of one Severus Snape. After tonight, this is the man as I know you as now, and forever more._

_**S**exual  
**E**nergetic  
**V**irile  
**E**njoyable  
**R**oughriding  
**U**nstoppable  
**S**taggering_

_**S**ensual  
**N**aughty  
**A**nimalistic  
**P**leasing  
**E**rotic_

_As to continuing with you, Professor, the answer is a resounding yes._

THE END


End file.
